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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ^| 



SHAKESPEARE'S 



VENUS AND ADONIS, LUCRECE, 



AND OTHER POEMS. 



Edited, with Notes, 



WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., 

FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 



WITH ENGRA VINGS. 




^%x 



NEW YORK 



JUN 29 1883" J 

W Ho.l/ffcZ 

°r washing 



HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
I88 3 . 



~2 



ENGLISH CLASSICS. 

Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 

Illustrated. i6mo, Cloth, 56 cents per volume ; Paper, 40 cents per volume. 



Shakespeare's Works. 


Othello. 


King Lear. 


Julius Caesar. 


The Taming of the Shrew. 


The Merchant of Venice. 


■ All "s Well that Ends Well. 


A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 


Coriolanus. 


Macbeth. 


: The Comedy of Errors. 


Hamlet. 


Cymbeline. 


Much Ado about Nothing. 


1 Antony and Cleopatra. 


Romeo and Juliet. 


Measure for Measure. 


As You Like It. 


1 Merry Wives of Windsor. 


The Tempest. 


1 Love's Labour 's Lost. 


Twelfth Night. 


Two Gentlemen of Verona. 


The Winter's Tale. 


Timon of Athens. 


King John. 


Troilus and Cressida. 


Richard II. 


v Henry VI. Part I. 


Henry IV. Part I. 


Henry VI. Part II. 


Henry IV. Part II. 


Henry VI. Part III. 


Henry V. 


. Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 


Richard III. 


The Two Noble Kinsmen. 


Henry VIII. 


Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, etc 


Goldsmith's i 


select Poems. 


Gray's Sel 


ect Poems. 



Published* ej>, HAMPER* § BROTHBi^.^EW York. 

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Copyright, 1883, by Harper & Brothers. 



PREFACE. 



Shakespeare's Poems have generally received less attention from 
editors and commentators than his plays, and in some editions they are 
omitted altogether. It has been my aim to treat them with the same 
thoroughness as the plays. All varies lectiones likely to be of interest to 
the student are recorded. The 1599 edition of Venus and Adonis is col- 
lated for the first time, so far as I am aware, though it was discovered 
some fifteen years ago. Certain of the recent editors do not appear to 
know of its existence. 

The text is given without expurgation. The Rape of Lucrece needs 
none, and the Venus and Adonis (like the sonnets on the same subject 
in The Passionate Pilgrim) does not admit of it without being mutilated 
past recognition. Of course these poems will never be read in schools 
or " Shakespeare clubs." 

In The Passionate Pilgrim, the pieces which are certainly not Shake- 
speare's are transferred from the text to the Notes. Most of the others 
are of doubtful authenticity, but I give Shakespeare the benefit — if bene- 
fit it be — of the doubt. A Lover's Complaint is generally conceded to be 
his ; and The Phcenix and the Turtle has, I think, a better claim to be 
so regarded than anything in The Passionate Pilgrim. These points, 
however, are more fully discussed in the Notes. 

Cambridge, February 3, 1883. 




By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd 
Was melted like a vapour from her sight, 
And in his blood that on the ground lay spill 'd, 
A purple flower sprung up, chequer' d with white, 
Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood 
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood. 

(V. and A. 1 165 fol.) 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Introduction to Shakespeare's Poems 9 

I. The History of the Poems 9 

II. The Sources of the Poems 14 

III. Critical Comments on the Poems 16 

VENUS AND ADONIS 41 

THE RAPE OF LUCRECE.. 81 

A LOVER'S COMPLAINT 143 

THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM 156 

THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE 163 

Notes 167 




VENUS GENETRIX. 




THE DEATH OF LUCKECE. 



INTRODUCTION 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



I. THE HISTORY OF THE POEMS. 

Venus and Adonis was first published in quarto form, in 
1593, with the following title-page: * 

Venvs I and adonis | Vilia miretur vulgus : mihi flauus 
Apollo I Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua. | London | 
Imprinted by Richard Field, and are to be sold at | the 
signe of the white Greyhound in \ Paules Church-yard. | 

1593. 

* For this title-page, as well as for much of the other information we 
have given concerning the early editions, we are indebted to the " Cam- 
bridge " ed. 



IO SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

The book is printed with remarkable accuracy, doubtless 
from the author's manuscript. 

A second quarto edition was published in 1594, the title- 
page of which differs from that of the first only in the date. 

A third edition in octavo form (like all the subsequent 
editions) was issued in 1596 from the same printing-office 
" for Iohn Harison." 

A fourth edition was published in 1599, with the following 
title-page (as given in Edmonds's reprint) : 

VENVS I AND ADONIS. | Vilia miretur vulgus : mihi 
flauus Apollo I Pocula Castalia plena mi?iistret aqua. | Im- 
printed at London for William Leake, dwel- | ling in Paules 
Churchyard at the signe of | the Greyhound. 1599. 

This edition was not known until 1867, when a copy of it 
was discovered at Lamport Hall in Northamptonshire by 
Mr. Charles Edmonds, who issued a fac-simile reprint of it 
in 1870. Of course it is not included in the collation of the 
Cambridge ed., which was published before the discovery f 
but it was evidently printed from the 3d edition. Mr. Ed- 
monds says : " A few corrections are introduced, but they 
bear no proportion to the misprints." 

Of the fifth edition a single copy is in existence (in the 
Bodleian Library), lacking the title-page, which has been 
restored in manuscript with the following imprint: "Lon- 
don I Printed by I. H. | for Iohn Harrison | 1600." The 
date may be right, but, according to Halliwell f and Edmonds, 
the publisher's name must be wrong, as Harrison had as- 
signed the copyright to Leake four years previous. The 
Cambridge editors assumed in 1866 that this edition (the 
4th of their numbering) was printed from that of 1596; but 
it is certain, since the discovery of the 1599 ed., that it 
must have been based on that. Of the text they say : " It 

* It is omitted by Hudson in his " Harvard " ed. (see account of early 
eds. of V. and A. vol. xix. p. 279), published in 1881. 

t Outlines 0/ the Life of Shakespeare (2d ed. 1882), p. 222. 



INTRODUCTION. n 

contains many erroneous readings, due, it would seem, 
partly to carelessness and partly to wilful alteration, which 
were repeated in later eds." 

Two new editions were issued in 1602, and others in 1617 
and 1620. In 1627, an edition (of which the only known 
copy is in the British Museum) was published in Edinburgh. 
In the Bodleian Library there is a unique copy of an edi- 
tion wanting the title-page but catalogued with the date 
1630 ; also a copy of another edition, published in 1630 
(discovered since the Cambridge ed. appeared). * A thir- 
teenth edition was printed in 1636, "to be sold by Francis 
Coules in the Old Baily without Newgate." 

The first edition of Lucrece was published in quarto in 
1594, with the following title-page: 

LVCRECE. I London. | Printed by Richard Field, for 
Iohn Harrison, and are | to be sold at the signe of the 
white Greyhound | in Paules Churh-yard. 1594. 

The running title is "The Rape of Lvcrece." The Bod- 
leian Library has two copies of this edition which differ in 
some important readings, indicating that it was corrected 
while passing through the press, t 

A second edition appeared in 1598, a third in 1600, and 
a fourth in 1607, all in octavo and all "for Iohn Harrison" 
(or " Harison "). 

In 1616, the year of Shakespeare's death, the poem was 
reprinted with his name as " newly revised ;" but " as the 
readings are generally inferior to those of the earlier edi- 
tions, there is no reason for attaching any importance to 
an assertion which was merely intended to allure purchas- 
ers " (Camb. ed.). The title-page of this edition reads thus : 

^Bibliographical Contributions, edited by J. Winsor, Librarian of Har- 
vard University : No. 2. Shakespeare's Poems (1879). This Bibliography 
of the earlier editions of the Poems contains much valuable and curious 
information concerning their history, the extant copies, reprints, etc. 

t On variations of this kind in the early editions, cf. The Two Noble 
Kinsmen, p. 10. 



I2 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

THE | RAPE | of | L VCRECE. | By | M r William 
Shakespeare. | Newly Reuised. | LONDON : | Printed by T. 
S. for Roger Jackson, and are | to be solde at his shop neere 
the Conduit | in Fleet-street. 1616. 

A sixth edition, also printed for Jackson, was issued in 
1624. 

The fifth and sixth editions differ considerably in their 
readings from the first four, in which there are no important 
variations. 

A Lover's Complaint was first printed, so far as we know, 
in the first edition of the Sonnets, which appeared in 1609. 

The Passionate Pilgri?n was first published in 1599, with 
the following title-page : 

THE I PASSIONATE | Pilgrims. | By W. Shakespeare. 
I AT LONDON \ Printed for W. laggard, and are | to be 
sold by W. Leake, at the Grey- | hound in Paules Church- 
yard. I 1599. 

In the middle of sheet C is a second title : 

SONNETS I To sundry notes of Musicke. | AT LON- 
DON I Printed for W. laggard, and are | to be sold by W. 
Leake, at the Grey- | hound in Paules Churchyard. 

The book was reprinted in 16 12, together with some po- 
ems by Thomas Heywood, the whole being attributed to 
Shakespeare. The title at first stood thus : 

THE I PASSIONATE | PILGRIME. | or | Certaine 
Amorous Sonnets, | betweene Venus and Adonis, | newly 
corrected and aug- | mented. | By W. Shakespere. | The third 
Edition. | Whereunto is newly ad- | ded two Loue-Epistles, 
the first I from Paris to LLellen, and | Hellens answere backe | 
againe to Paris. | Printed by W. laggard. | 16 12. 

The Bodleian copy of this edition contains the following- 
note by Malone : " All the poems from Sig. D. 5 were writ- 
ten, by Thomas Heywood, who was so offended at Jaggard 



INTRODUCTION. I3 

for printing them under the name of Shakespeare that he 
has added a postscript to his Apology for Actors, 4to, 1612, 
on this subject ; and Jaggard in consequence of it appears 
to have printed a new title-page to please Heywood, with- 
out the name of Shakespeare in it. The former title-page 
was no doubt intended to be cancelled, but by some inad- 
vertence they were both prefixed to this copy and I have 
retained them as a curiosity." 

The corrected title-page is, except in the use of Italic and 
Roman letters, the same as above, omitting " By W. Shake- 
spere." 

It will be observed that this is called the third edition ; 
but no other between 1599 and 1612 is known to exist. 

In 1640 a number of the Sonnets, some of the poems from 
The Passio7iate Pilgrim, and A Lover's Complaint, together 
with some translations from Ovid and other pieces evidently 
not by Shakespeare, were published in a volume with the 
following title : 

POEMS : I Written | by | Wil. Shake-speare. | Gent. | 
Printed at London by Tho. Cotes, and are | to be sold by 
Iohn Benson, dwelling in | S*. Dunstans Church-yard. 1640. 

The first complete edition of Shakespeare's Poems, in- 
cluding the Sonnets, was issued (according to Lowndes, 
Bibliographer's Manual) in 1709, with the following title : 

A Collection of Poems, in Two Volumes ; Being all the 
Miscellanies of Mr. William Shakespeare, which were Pub- 
lished by himself in the Year 1609, and now correctly Print- 
ed from those Editions. The First Volume contains, I. Ve- 
nus and Adonis. II. The Rape of Lucrece. III. The 
Passionate Pilgrim. IV. Some Sonnets set to sundry Notes 
of Musick. The Second Volume contains One Hundred and 
Fifty Four Sonnets, all of them in Praise of his Mistress. II. 
A Lover's Complaint of his Angry Mistress. LONDON: 
Printed for Bernard Lintott, at the Cross-Keys, between the 
Two Temple-Gates in Fleet-street. 



14 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



The Phoenix and the Turtle first appeared, with Shake- 
speare's name appended to it, in Robert Chester's Loves 
Martyr : or Rosalins Complaint, published in 1601 (reprint- 
ed by the New Shakspere Society in 1878). 

The earliest reference to the Venus and Adonis that has 
been found is in the famous passage in Meres's Palladis 
Tamia (see M. N. D. p. 9, and C. of jE.p. 101). As to the 
date of its composition, Dowden says (Primer, p. 81) : "When 
Venus and Adonis appeared, Shakspere was twenty-nine years 
of age ; the Earl of Southampton, to whom it was dedicated, 
was not yet twenty. In the dedication the poet speaks of 
these 'unpolisht lines' as 'the first heire of my invention.' 
Did Shakspere mean by this that Venus and Adonis was writ- 
ten before any of his plays, or before any plays that were 
strictly original — his own 'invention?' or does he, setting 
plays altogether apart, which were not looked upon as liter- 
ature, in a high sense of the word, call it his first poem be- 
cause he had written no earlier narrative or lyrical verse? 
We cannot be sure. It is possible, but not likely, that he 
may have written this poem before he left Stratford, and 
have brought it up with him to London. More probably it 
was written in London, and perhaps not long before its pub- 
lication. The year 1593, in which the poem appeared, was a 
year of plague ; the London theatres w r ere closed : it may be 
that Shakspere, idle in London, or having returned for a while 
to Stratford, then wrote the poem." Even if begun some 
years earlier, it was probably revised not long before its 
publication. 

The Lucrece was not improbably the "graver labour" 
promised in the dedication of the Venus and Adonis ; and, 
as Dowden remarks, it "exhibits far less immaturity than 
does the 'first heire' of Shakspere's invention." It is less 
likely than that, we think, to have been a youthful produc- 
tion taken up and elaborated at a later date. 

A Lover's Complaint was evidently written long after the 



INTRODUCTION. 15 

Lucrece, but we have no means of fixing the time with any 
precision. 

The Shakespearian poems in The Passionate Pilgrim were 
of course written before 1599, when the collection was pub- 
lished. The three taken from Love's Labour 's Lost must be 
as early as the date of that play (see our ed. p. 10). If the 
Venus and Adonis sonnets are Shakespeare's, they may have 
been experiments on the subject before writing the long 
poem ; but Furnivall says that they are " so much easier in 
flow and lighter in handling " that he cannot suppose them 
to be earlier than the poem. 

The Phoenix and the Turtle is of doubtful authorship, and 
the date is equally uncertain. 

II. THE SOURCES OF THE POEMS. 

The story of the Venus and Adonis was doubtless taken 
from Ovid's Metamorphoses ; which had been translated by 
Golding in 1567. Shakespeare was probably acquainted 
with this translation at the time of the composition of The 
Tempest (see our ed. p. 139, note on Ye elves, etc.) ; but we 
have no clear evidence that he made use of it in writing 
Venus and Adonis. He does not follow Ovid very closely. 
That poet " relates, shortly, that Venus, accidentally wound- 
ed by an arrow of Cupid's, falls in love with the beauteous 
Adonis, leaves her favourite haunts and the skies for him, 
and follows him in his huntings over mountains and bushy 
rocks, and through woods. She warns him against wild 
boars and lions. She and he lie down in the shade on the 
grass — he without pressure on her part ; and there, with her 
bosom on his, she tells him, with kisses,* the story of how 
she helped Hippomenes to win the swift-footed Atalanta, 
and then, because he was ungrateful to her (Venus), she 
excited him and his wife to defile a sanctuary by a forbidden 

* " And, in her tale, she bussed him among." — A. Golding. Ovid's 
Met, leaf 129 bk., ed. 1602. 



1 6 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

act, for which they were both turned into lions. With a final 
warning against wild beasts, Venus leaves Adonis. He then 
hunts a boar, and gets his death-wound from it. Venus 
comes down to see him die, and turns his blood into a flow- 
er — the anemone, or wind-flower, short-lived, because the 
winds (anemoi), which give it its name, beat it down,* so 
slender is it. Other authors give Venus the enjoyment 
which Ovid and Shakspere deny her, and bring Adonis back 
from Hades to be with her " (Furnivall). 

The main incidents of the Lucrece were doubtless familiar 
to Shakespeare from his school-days ; and they had been used 
again and again in poetry and prose. " Chaucer had, in his 
Legende of Good Women (a.d. 1386?), told the story of Lu- 
crece, after those of Cleopatra, Dido, Thisbe, Ypsiphile, and 
Medea, ' As saythe Ovyde and Titus Lyvyus ' (Ovid's Fasti, 
bk. ii. 741; Livy, bk. i. ch. 57, 58): the story is also told 
by Dionysius Halicarnassensis, bk. iv. ch. 72, and by Dio- 
dorus Siculus, Dio Cassius, and Valerius Maximus. In Eng- 
lish it is besides in Lydgate's Falles of Princes, bk. iii. ch. 5, 
and in Win. Painter's Palace of Pleasure, 1567, vol. i. fol. 5-7, 
where the story is very shortly told : the heading is ' Sextus 
Tarquinius ravisheth Lucrece, who bewailyng the losse of her 
chastitie, killeth her self.' I cannot find the story in the 
Rouen edition, 1603, of Boaistuau and Belleforest's Histoires 
Tragiques, 7 vols. i2mo; or the Lucca edition, 1554, of the 
Novelle of Bandello, 3 parts ; or the Lyons edition, 1573, of 
the Fourth Part. Painter's short Lucrece must have been 
taken by himself from one of the Latin authors he cites as 
his originals at the end of his preface. In 1568, was entered 
on the Stat. Reg. A, If. 174, a receipt for \d. from Jn. Aide 
'for his lycense for prynting of a ballett, the grevious com- 
playnt of Lucrece' (Arber's Tra?iscript, i. 379) ; and in 1570 
the like from 'James Robertes, for his lycense for the prynt- 

* Pliny (bk. i. c. 23) says it never opens but when the wind is blow- 
ing. 



INTRO D UCTIOiV. ! y 

inge of a ballett intituled The Death of Lucryssia ' (Arber's 
Iranscript, i. 416). Another ballad of the legend of Lu- 
crece was also printed in 1576, says Warton. (Far. Shak- 
speare, xx. 100.) Chaucer's simple, short telling of the story 
in 206 lines — of which 95 are taken up with the visit of 
Collatyne and Tarquynyus to Rome, before Shakspere's 
start with Tarquin's journey thither alone — cannot of 
course compare with Shakspere's rich and elaborate poem 
of 1855 lines, though, had the latter had more of the ear- 
lier maker's brevity, it would have attained greater fame" 
(Furnivall). 

III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE POEMS. 
[From Knight's "Pictorial Shahspere." *] 

"If the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall 
be sorry it had so noble a godfather." These are the words 
which, in relation to the Venus and Adonis, Shakspere ad- 
dressed, in 1593, to the Earl of Southampton. Are we to 
accept them literally? Was the Venus and Adonis the first 
production of Shakspere's imagination ? Or did he put out 
of his view those dramatic performances which he had then 
unquestionably produced, in deference to the critical opin- 
ions which regarded plays as works not belonging to " inven- 
tion " ? We think that he used the words in a literal sense. 
We regard the Venus and Adonis as the production of a very 
young man, improved, perhaps, considerably in the interval 
between its first composition and its publication, but distin- 
guished by peculiarities which belong to the wild luxuriance 
of youthful power,— such power, however, as few besides 
Shakspere have ever possessed. 

A deep thinker and eloquent writer, Julius Charles Hare, 
thus describes "the spirit of self-sacrifice," as applied to 
poetry : 

"The might of the imagination is manifested by its launch- 
* Vol. ii. of Tragedies, etc., p. 509 fol. 
B 



1 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

ing forth from the petty creek, where the accidents of birth 
moored it, into the wide ocean of being, — by its going abroad 
into the world around, passing into whatever it meets with, 
animating it, and becoming one with it. This complete union 
and identification of the poet with his poem, — this suppres- 
sion of his own individual insulated consciousness, with its 
narrowness of thought and pettiness of feeling, — is what we 
admire in the great masters of that which for this reason we 
justly call classical poetry, as representing that which is 
symbolical and universal, not that which is merely occasional 
and peculiar. This gives them that majestic calmness which 
still breathes upon us from the statues of their gods. This 
invests their works with that lucid transparent atmosphere 
wherein every form stands out in perfect definiteness and 
distinctness, only beautified by the distance which idealizes 
it. This has delivered those works from the casualties of 
time and space, and has lifted them up like stars into the 
pure firmament of thought, so that they do not shine on one 
spot alone, nor fade like earthly flowers, but journey on 
from clime to clime, shedding the light of beauty on genera- 
tion after generation. The same quality, amounting to a to- 
tal extinction of his own selfish being, so that his spirit be- 
came a mighty organ through which Nature gave utterance 
to the full diapason of her notes, is what we wonder at in 
our own great dramatist, and is the groundwork of all his 
other powers : for it is only when purged of selfishness that 
the intellect becomes fitted for receiving the inspirations of 
genius."* 

What Mr. Hare so justly considers as the great moving 
principle of "classical poetry," — what he further notes as 
the pre-eminent characteristic of "our own great drama- 
tist," — is abundantly found in that great dramatist's earliest 
work. Coleridge was the first to point out this pervading 

* The Victory of Faith ; and other Sermons, by Julius Charles Hare, 
M.A. (1840), p. 277. 



INTRODUCTION. I9 

quality in the Venus and Adonis ; and he has done this 
so admirably that it would be profanation were we to 
attempt to elucidate the point in any other than his own 
words : 

" It is throughout as if a superior spirit, more intuitive, 
more intimately conscious, even than the characters them- 
selves, not only of every outward look and act, but of the 
flux and reflux of the mind in all its subtlest thoughts and 
feelings, were placing the whole before our view; himself 
meanwhile unparticipating in the passions, and actuated 
only by that pleasurable excitement which had resulted from 
the energetic fervour of his own spirit in so vividly exhibit- 
ing what it had so accurately and profoundly contemplated. 
I think I should have conjectured from these poems that 
even then the great instinct which impelled the poet to the 
drama was secretly working in him, prompting him by a se- 
ries and never-broken chain of imagery, always vivid, and, 
because unbroken, often minute — by the highest effort of the 
picturesque in words of which words are capable, higher 
perhaps than was ever realized by any other poet, even 
Dante not excepted — to provide a substitute for that visual 
language, that constant intervention and running comment 
by tone, look, and gesture, which in his dramatic works he 
was entitled to expect from the players. His Venus and 
Adonis seem at once the characters themselves, and the 
whole representation of those characters by the most con- 
summate actors. You seem to be told nothing, but to see 
and hear everything. Hence it is, that, from the perpetual 
activity of attention required on the part of the reader, — 
from the rapid flow, the quick change, and the playful nature 
of the thoughts and images, — and, above all, from the alien- 
ation, and, if I may hazard such an expression, the utter 
aloofness of the poet's own feelings from those of which he is 
at once the painter and the analyst, — that though the very 
subject cannot but detract from the pleasure of a delicate 



2 o SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

mind, yet never was poem less dangerous on a moral ac- 
count."* 

Coleridge, in the preceding chapter of his Literary Life, 
says : " During the first year that Mr. Wordsworth and I 
were neighbours, our conversations turned frequently on the 
two cardinal points of poetry — the power of exciting the 
sympathy of the reader by a faithful adherence to the truth 
of nature, and the power of giving the interest of novelty by 
the modifying colours of imagination." In Coleridge's Lit- 
erary Remains the Venus and Adonis is cited as furnishing 
a signal example of "that affectionate love of nature and 
natural objects, without which no man could have observed 
so steadily, or painted so truly and passionately, the very 
minutest beauties of the external world." The description 
of the hare-hunt is there given at length as a specimen of 
this power. A remarkable proof of the completeness as well 
as accur acy of Shakspere's description lately presented itself 
to our mind, in running through a little volume, full of tal- 
ent, published in 1825 — Essays and Sketches of Character, by 
the late Richard Ayton, Esq. There is a paper on hunting, 
and especially on hare-hunting. He says : " I am not one 
of the perfect fox-hunters of these realms ; but having been 
in the way of late of seeing a good deal of various modes of 
hunting, I would, for the benefit of the uninitiated, set down 
the results of my observations." In this matter he writes with 
a perfect unconsciousness that he is describing what any one 
has described before ; but as accurate an observer had been 
before him: 

" She (the hare) generally returns to the seat from which 
she was put up, running, as all the world knows, in a circle, 
or something sometimes like it, we had better say, that we 
may keep on good terms with the mathematical. At start- 
ing, she tears away at her utmost speed for a mile or more, 
and distances the dogs half-way : she then returns, diverging 
* Biographia Liter aria, 181 7, vol. ii. p. 15. 



INTRODUCTION. 2I 

a little to the right or left, that she may not run into the 
mouths of her enemies — a necessity which accounts for 
what we call the circularity of her course. Her flight from 
home is direct and precipitate j but on her way back, when 
she has gained a little time for consideration and strata- 
gem, she describes a curious labyrinth of short turnings and 
windings, as if to perplex the dogs by the intricacy of her 
track." 

Compare this with Shakspere : 

"And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, 
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles, 
How he outruns the wind, and with what care 
He cranks and crosses, with a thousand doubles : 

The many musits through the which he goes 

Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes." 

Mr. Ayton thus goes on : 

"The hounds, whom we left in full cry, continue their mu- 
sic without remission as long as they are faithful to the scent ; 
as a summons, it should seem, like the seaman's cry, to pull 
together, or keep together, and it is a certain proof to them- 
selves and their followers that they are in the right way. 
On the instant that they are ' at fault,' or lose the scent, they 
are silent. . . . The weather, in its impression on the scent, 
is the great father of ' faults ;' but they may arise from other 
accidents, even when the day is in every respect favourable. 
The intervention of ploughed land, on which the scent soon 
cools or evaporates, is at least perilous; but sheep-stains, 
recently left by a flock, are fatal : they cut off the scent irre- 
coverably — making a gap, as it were, in the clue, in which 
the dogs have not even a hint for their guidance." 

Compare Shakspere again : 

" Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep, 
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell, 
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep, 
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell ; 



22 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer ; 
Danger deviseth shifts ; wit waits on fear ; 

" For there his smell with others being mingled, 
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, 
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled 
With much ado the cold fault cleanly out ; 

Then do they spend their mouths : Echo replies, 
As if another chase were in the skies." 

One more extract from Mr. Ayton : 

" Suppose then, after the usual rounds, that you see the 
hare at last (a sorry mark for so many foes) sorely beleaguered 
— looking dark and draggled — and limping heavily along; 
then stopping to listen — again tottering on a little — and 
again stopping \ and at every step, and every pause, hearing 
the death-cry grow nearer and louder." 

One more comparison, and we have exhausted Shak- 
spere's description : — 

" By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, 
Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear, 
To hearken if his foes pursue him still ; 
Anon their loud alarums he doth hear ; 
And now his grief may be compared well 
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell. 
"Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch 
Turn and return, indenting with the way ; 
Each envious briar his weary legs doth scratch, 
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay : 
For misery is trodden on by many, 
And being low never reliev'd by any." 

Here, then, be it observed, are not only the same objects, 
the same accidents, the same movement, in each descrip- 
tion, but the very words employed to convey the scene to the 
mind are often the same in each. It would be easy to say 
that Mr. Ayton copied Shakspere. We believe he did not. 
There is a sturdy ingenuousness about his writings which 
would have led him to notice the Venus and Ado?iis if he 
had had it in his mind. Shakspere and he had each looked 



INTRODUCTION. 2 3 

minutely and practically upon the same scene ; and the won- 
der is, not that Shakspere was an accurate describer, but that 
in him the accurate is so thoroughly fused with the poetical, 
that it is one and the same life. 

The celebrated description of the courser in the Venus 
and Adonis is another remarkable instance of the accuracy 
of the young Shakspere's observation. Not the most expe- 
rienced dealer ever knew the points of a horse better. The 
whole poem indeed is full of evidence that the circumstances 
by which the writer was surrounded, in a country district, 
had entered deeply into his mind, and were reproduced 
in the poetical form. The bird "tangled in a net" — the 
" didapper peering through a wave " — the " blue-veined vio- 
lets "—the 

" red morn, that ever yet betoken'd 
Wrack to the seaman, tempest to the field " — 

the fisher that forbears the " ungrown fry " — the sheep "gone 
to fold " — the caterpillars feeding on " the tender leaves " — 
and, not to weary with examples, that exquisite image, 

" Look how a bright star shooteth from the sky, 
So glides he in the night from Venus' eye " — 

all these bespeak a poet who had formed himself upon nat- 
ure, and not upon books. To understand the value as well 
as the rarity of this quality in Shakspere, we should open 
any contemporary poem. Take Marlowe's Hero and Lean- 
der for example. We read line after line, beautiful, gorgeous, 
running over with a satiating luxuriousness ; but we look in 
vain for a single familiar image. Shakspere describes what 
he has seen, throwing over the real the delicious tint of his 
own imagination. Marlowe looks at Nature herself very 
rarely; but he knows all the conventional images by which 
the real is supposed to be elevated into the poetical. His 
most beautiful things are thus but copies of copies. The 
mode in which each poet describes the morning will illus- 
trate our meaning : 



24 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

" Lo ! here the gentle lark, weary of rest, 
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, 
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast 
The sun ariseth in his majesty; 

Who doth the world so gloriously behold, 
The cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold." 

We feel that this is true. Compare— 

" By this Apollo's golden harp began 
To sound forth music to the ocean ; 
Which watchful Hesperus no sooner heard 
But he the day's bright-bearing car prepar'd, 
And ran before, as harbinger of light, 
And with his flaring beams mock'd ugly Night, 
Till she, o'ercome with anguish, shame, and rage, 
Dang'd down to hell her loathsome carriage." 

We are taught that this is classical. 

Coleridge has observed that, " in the Venus and Adonis, 
the first and most obvious excellence is the perfect sweet- 
ness of the versification; its adaptation to the subject; and 
the power displayed in varying the march of the words with- 
out passing into a loftier and more majestic rhythm than was 
demanded by the thoughts, or permitted by the propriety of 
preserving a sense of melody predominant." # This self- 
controlling power of "varying the march of the words with- 
out passing into a loftier and more majestic rhythm " is per- 
haps one of the most signal instances of Shakspere's consum- 
mate mastery of his art, even as a very young man. He who, 
at the proper season, knew how to strike the grandest music 
within the compass of our own powerful and sonorous lan- 
guage, in his early productions breathes out his thoughts 

" To the Dorian mood 
Of flutes and soft recorders." 

The sustained sweetness of the versification is never cloy- 
ing ; and yet there are no violent contrasts, no sudden ele- 
vations : all is equable in its infinite variety. The early 

* Biographia Literaria, vol. ii. p. 14. 



INTRODUCTION. 25 

comedies are full of the same rare beauty. In Love's La- 
bour's Lost — The Comedy of Errors — A Midsummer-Night's 
Dream — we have verses of alternate rhymes formed upon the 
same model as those of the Venus and Adonis, and producing 
the same feeling of placid delight by their exquisite harmony. 
The same principles on which he built the versification of 
the Venus and Adonis exhibited to him the grace which these 
elegiac harmonies would impart to the scenes of repose in 
the progress of a dramatic action. 

We proceed to the Lucrece. Of that poem the date of 
the composition is fixed as accurately as we can desire. 
In the dedication to the Venus and Adonis the poet says : 
" If your honour seem but pleased I account myself highly 
praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours till I 
have honoured you with some graver labour." In 1594, a 
year after the Venus and Adonis, Lucrece was published, and 
was dedicated to Lord Southampton. This, then, was un- 
doubtedly the "graver labour;" this was the produce of the 
"idle hours" of 1593. Shakspere was then nearly thirty 
years of age — the period at which it is held by some he first 
began to produce anything original for the stage. The poet 
unquestionably intended the " graver labour " for a higher 
effort than had produced the "first heir" of his invention. 
He describes the Venus and Adonis as "unpolished lines" — 
lines thrown off with youthful luxuriousness and rapidity. 
The verses of the Lucrece are "untutored lines" — lines 
formed upon no established model. There is to our mind the 
difference of eight or even ten years in the aspect of these 
poems — a difference as manifest as that which exists between 
Love's Labour 's Lost and Romeo and Juliet. Coleridge has 
marked the great distinction between the one poem and the 
other : 

"The Venus and Adonis did not perhaps allow the display 
of the deeper passions. But the story of Lucretia seems to 
favour, and even demand, their intensest workings. And 



26 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

yet we find in Shakespeare's management of the tale neither 
pathos nor any other dramatic quality. There is the same 
minute and faithful imagery as in the former poem, in the 
same vivid colours, inspirited by the same impetuous vigour 
of thought, and diverging and contracting with the same ac- 
tivity of the assimilative and of the modifying faculties; and 
with a yet larger display, a yet wider range of knowledge and 
reflection : and, lastly, with the same perfect dominion, often 
domination, over the whole world of language." # 

It is in this paragraph that Coleridge has marked the dif- 
ference — which a critic of the very highest order could alone 
have pointed out — between the power which Shakspere's 
mind possessed of going out of itself in a narrative poem, 
and the dramatic power. The same mighty, and to most 
unattainable, power, of utterly subduing the self-conscious 
to the universal, was essential to the highest excellence of 
both species of composition, — the poem and the drama. 
But the exercise of that power was essentially different in 
each. Coleridge, in another place, says : " In his very first 
production he projected his mind out of his own particular 
being, and felt, and made others feel, on subjects no way 
connected with himself except by force of contemplation, 
and that sublime faculty by which a great mind becomes 
that on which it meditates." t But this " sublime faculty " 
went greatly farther when it became dramatic. In the nar- 
rative poems of an ordinary man we perpetually see the nar- 
rator. Coleridge, in a passage previously quoted, has shown 
the essential superiority of Shakspere's narrative poems, 
where the whole is placed before our view, the poet unpar- 
ticipating in the passions. There is a remarkable example 
of how strictly Shakspere adhered to this principle in his 
beautiful poem of A Lover's Complaint. There the poet is 
actually present to the scene : 

* Biographia Literaria, vol. ii. p. 21. 
t Literary Remains, vol. ii. p. 54. 



INTRODUCTION. 27 

"From off a hill whose concave womb re-worded 
A plaintml story from a sistering vale, 
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, 
And down I laid to list the sad-tun'd tale." 

But not one word of comment does he offer upon the reve- 
lations of the "fickle maid full pale." The dramatic power, 
however, as we have said, is many steps beyond this. It 
dispenses with narrative altogether. It renders a compli- 
cated story, or stories, one in the action. It makes the char- 
acters reveal themselves, sometimes by a word. It trusts for 
everything to the capacity of an audience to appreciate the 
greatest subtleties, and the nicest shades of passion, through 
the action. It is the very reverse of the oratorical power, 
which repeats and explains. And how is it able to effect 
this prodigious mastery over the senses and the understand- 
ing? By raising the mind of the spectator, or reader, into 
such a state of poetical excitement as corresponds in some 
degree to the excitement of the poet, and thus clears away 
the mists of our ordinary vision, and irradiates the whole 
complex moral world in which we for a time live, and move, 
and have our being, with the brightness of his own intel- 
lectual sunlight. Now, it appears to us that, although the 
Venus and Adonis, and the Lucrece, do not pretend to be the 
creations of this wonderful power — their forms did not de- 
mand its complete exercise — they could not have been pro- 
duced by a man who did not possess the power, and had 
assiduously cultivated it in its own proper field. In the 
second poem, more especially, do we think the power has 
reached a higher development, indicating itself in "a yet 
wider range of knowledge and reflection." 

Malone says : " I have observed that Painter has inserted 
the story of Lucrece in the first volume of his Palace of Pleas- 
ure, 1567, on which I make no doubt our author formed his 
poem." Be it so. The story of Lucrece in Painter's novel 
occupies four pages. The first page describes the circum- 



2 g SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

stances that preceded the unholy visit of Tarquin to Lucrece ; 
nearly the whole of the last two pages detail the events that 
followed the death of Lucrece. A page and a half at most 
is given to the tragedy. This is proper enough in a narra- 
tive, whose business it is to make all the circumstances intel- 
ligible. But the narrative poet, who was also thoroughly 
master of the dramatic power, concentrates all the interest 
upon the main circumstances of the story. He places the 
scene of those circumstances before our eyes at the very 
opening : 

" From the besieged Ardea all in post, 
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, 
Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, 
And to Collatium bears," etc. 

The preceding circumstances which impel this journey are 
then rapidly told. Again, after the crowning action of the 
tragedy, the poet has done. He tells the consequences of 
it with a brevity and simplicity indicating the most consum- 
mate art : 

" When they had sworn to this advised doom, 
They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence ; 
To show her bleeding body thorough Rome, 
And so to publish Tarquin's foul offence: 
Which being done with speedy diligence, 
The Romans plausibly did give consent 
To Tarquin's everlasting banishment." 

He has thus cleared away all the encumbrances to the prog- 
ress of the main action. He would have done the same had 
he made Lucrece the subject of a drama. But he has to tell 
his painful story and to tell it all : not to exhibit a portion 
of it, as he would have done had he chosen the subject for a 
tragedy. The consummate delicacy with which he has accom- 
plished this is beyond all praise, perhaps above all imitation. 
He puts forth his strength on the accessories of the main 
incident. He delights to make the chief actors analyze 
their own thoughts, — reflect, explain, expostulate. All this 



INTRODUCTION. 

is essentially undramatic, and he meant it to be so. But 
then, what pictures does he paint of the progress of the ac- 
tion, which none but a great dramatic poet, who had visions 
of future Macbeths and Othellos before him, could have paint- 
ed ! Look, for example, at that magnificent scene, when 
" No comfortable star did lend his light," 

of Tarquin leaping from his bed, and, softly smiting his fal- 
chion on a flint, lighting a torch 

" Which must be lode-star to his lustful eye." 
Look, again, at the exquisite domestic incident which tells 
of the quiet and gentle occupation of his devoted victim : 
" By the light he spies 
Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks ; 
He takes it from the rushes where it lies." 

The hand to which that glove belongs is described in the 
very perfection of poetry : 

" Without the bed her other fair hand was, 
On the green coverlet ; whose perfect white 
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass." 

In the chamber of innocence Tarquin is painted with terrific 
grandeur, which is overpowering by the force of contrast : 

This said he shakes aloft his Roman blade, 
Which, like a falcon towering in the skies, 
Coucheth the fowl below with his wings' shade." 

The complaint of Lucrece after Tarquin has departed was 
meant to be undramatic. The action advances not. The 
character develops not itself in the action. But the poet 
makes his heroine bewail her fate in every variety of lament 
that his boundless command of imagery could furnish. The 
letter to Collatine is written ; — a letter of the most touching 
Simplicity: "Thou worthy lord 

Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, 
Health to thy person ! Next vouchsafe to afford 
(If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see) 
Some present speed to come and visit me : 



3 o SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

So I commend me from our house in grief; 

My woes are tedious, though my words are brief." 

Again the action languishes, and again Lucrece surrenders 
herself to her grief. The 

" Skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy " 

is one of the most elaborate passages of the poem, essentially 
cast in an undramatic mould. But this is but a prelude to 
the catastrophe, where, if we mistake not, a strength of pas- 
sion is put forth which is worthy him who drew the terrible 
agonies of Lear : 

" Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break, 
She throws forth Tarquin's name : ' He, he,' she says, 
But more than ' he ' her poor tongue could not speak ; 
Till after many accents and delays, 
Untimely breathings, sick and short assays, 
She utters this : ' He, he, fair lords, 't is he, 
That guides this hand to give this wound to me.' " 

Malone, in his concluding remarks upon the Venus and Ado- 
nis, and Lucrece, says : "We should do Shakspeare injustice 
were we to try them by a comparison with' more modern and 
polished productions, or with our present idea of poetical 
excellence." This was written in the year 1780 — the period 
which rejoiced in the " polished productions " of Hayley and 
Miss Seward, and founded its "idea of poetical excellence " 
on some standard which, secure in its conventional forms, 
might depart as far as possible from simplicity and nature, 
to give us words without thought, arranged in verses without 
music. It would be injustice indeed to Shakspere to try the 
Venus and Adonis, and Lucrece, by such a standard of " poet- 
ical excellence." But we have outlived that period. By way 
of apology for Shakspere, Malone adds, "that few authors 
rise much above the age in which they live." He further 
says, "the poems of Venus and Adonis, and the Rape of Lu- 
crece, whatever opinion may be now entertained of them, were 
certainly much admired in Shakspeare's lifetime." This is 



INTR OD UC T/OiV. 3 x 

consolatory. In Shakspere's lifetime there were a few men 
that the world has since thought somewhat qualified to estab- 
lish an "idea of poetical excellence" — Spenser, Drayton, 
Jonson, Fletcher, Chapman, for example. These were not 
much valued in Malone's golden age of " more modern and 
polished productions f — but let that pass. We are coming 
back to the opinions of this obsolete school ; and we venture 
to think the majority of readers now will not require us to 
make an apology for Shakspere's poems. 

[From Dowdeti's " Shakspere." 1 ' '*] 
The Venus and Adonis is styled by its author, in the ded- 
ication to the Earl of Southampton, " the first heir of my 
invention." Gervinus believes that the poem may have 
been written before the poet left Stratford. Although pos- 
sibly separated by a considerable interval from its companion 
poem, Ine Rape of Liccrece (1594), the two may be regarded 
as essentially one in kind. The specialty of these poems as 
portions of Shakspere's art has perhaps not been sufficiently 
observed, f Each is an artistic study ; and they form, as has 
been just observed, companion studies — one of female lust 
and boyish coldness, the other of male lust and womanly 
chastity. Coleridge noticed " the utter aloofness of the poet's 
own feelings from those of which he is at once the painter 
and the analyst ;" but it can hardly be admitted that this 
aloofness of the poet's own feelings proceeds from a dramatic 
abandonment of self. The subjects of these two poems did 
not call and choose their poet; they did not possess him 
and compel him to render them into art. Rather the poet 
expressly made choice of the subjects, and deliberately set 
himself down before each to accomplish an exhaustive study 
of it. 

* Shakspere : a Critical Study of his Mind and Art, by Edward Dow- 
den ; Harper's ed. p. 43 fol. 
t Coleridge touches upon the fact, and it is noted by Lloyd. 



3 2 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



If the Venus and Adonis sonnets in The Passionate Pil- 
grim be by Shakspere, it would seem that he had been try- 
ing various poetical exercises on this theme. And for a 
young writer of the Renascence, the subject of Shakspere's 
earliest poem was a splendid one — as voluptuous and un- 
spiritual as that of a classical picture of Titian. It included 
two figures containing inexhaustible pasture for the fleshly 
eye, and delicacies and dainties for the sensuous imagina- 
tion of the Renascence — the enamoured Queen of Beauty, 
and the beautiful, disdainful boy. It afforded occasion for 
endless exercises and variations on the themes Beauty, Lust, 
and Death. In holding the subject before his imagination, 
Shakspere is perfectly cool and collected. He has made 
choice of the subject, and he is interested in doing his duty 
by it in the most thorough way a young poet can ; but he 
remains unimpassioned — intent wholly upon getting down 
the right colours and lines upon his canvas. Observe his 
determination to put in accurately the details of each object ; 
to omit nothing. Poor Wat, the hare, is described in a dozen 
stanzas. Another series of stanzas describes the stallion — 
all his points are enumerated : 

" Round-hoof 'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, 
Broad breast, full eye, small head and nostril wide, 
High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, 
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide." 

This passage of poetry has been admired ; but is it poetry 
or a paragraph from an advertisement of a horse-sale ? It 
is part of Shakspere's study of an animal, and he does his 
work thoroughly. In like manner, he does not shrink from 
faithfully putting down each one of the amorous provoca- 
tions and urgencies of Venus. The complete series of ma- 
noeuvres must be detailed. 

In Lucrece the action is delayed and delayed, that every 
minute particular may be described, every minor incident 
recorded. In the newness of her suffering and shame, Lu- 



INTR OD UC TION. 3 3 

crece finds time for an elaborate tirade appropriate to the 
theme " Night," another to that of " Time," another to that 
of "Opportunity." Each topic is exhausted. Then, studi- 
ously, a new incident is introduced, and its significance for 
the emotions is drained to the last drop in a new tirade. 
We nowhere else discover Shakspere so evidently engaged 
upon his work. Afterwards he puts a stress upon his verses 
to compel them to contain the hidden wealth of his thought 
and imagination. Here he displays at large such wealth as 
he possesses ; he will have none of it half seen. The de- 
scriptions and declamations are undramatic, but they show 
us the materials laid out in detail from which dramatic 
poetry originates. Having drawn so carefully from models, 
the time comes when he can trust himself to draw from 
memory, and he possesses marvellous freedom of hand, be- 
cause his previous studies have been so laborious. It was 
the same hand that drew the stallion in Venus and Adonis 
which afterwards drew with infallible touch, as though they 
were alive, the dogs of Theseus : 

"My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind, 
So flew'd, so sanded, and their heads are hung 
With ears that sweep away the morning dew ; 
Crook-kneed, and dew-lapp'd like Thessalian bulls ; 
Slow in pursuit ; but match'd in mouth like bells, 
Each under each. A cry more tunable 
Was never holla'd to, nor cheer'd with horn, 
In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly." * 

* The comparison of these two passages is from Hazlitt, whose unfa- 
vourable criticism of Shakspere's poems expresses well one side of the 
truth. "The two poems of Venus and Adonis and of Tarquin and Lu- 
crece appear to us like a couple of ice-houses. They are about as hard, 
as glittering, and as cold. The author seems all the time to be thinking 
of his verses, and not of his subject — not of what his characters would 
feel, but of what he shall say ; and, as it must happen in all such cases, 
he always puts into their mouths those things which they would be the 
last to think of, and which it shows the greatest ingenuity in him to find 
out. The whole is laboured, uphill work. The poet is perpetually sin- 

c 



34 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



When these poems were written, Shakspere was cautiously 
feeling his way. Large, slow-growing natures, gifted with a 
sense of concrete fact and with humour, ordinarily possess no 
great self-confidence in youth. An idealist, like Milton, may 
resolve in early manhood that he will achieve a great epic 
poem, and in old age may turn into fact the ideas of his 
youth. An idealist, like Marlowe, may begin his career with 
a splendid youthful audacity, a stupendous Tamburlaine. 
A man of the kind to which Shakspere belonged, although 
very resolute, and determined, if possible, to succeed, re- 
quires the evidence of objective facts to give him self-confi- 
dence. His special virtue lies in a peculiarly pregnant and 
rich relation with the actual world, and such relation com- 
monly establishes itself by a gradual process. Accordingly, 
instead of flinging abroad into the world while still a strip- 
ling some unprecedented creation, as Marlowe did, or as 
Victor Hugo did, and securing thereby the position of a 
leader of an insurgent school, Shakspere began, if not tim- 
idly, at least cautiously and tentatively. He undertakes 
work of any and every description, and tries and tests him- 
self upon all. He is therefore a valued person in his theat- 
rical company, ready to turn his hand to anything helpful — 

gling out the difficulties of the art to make an exhibition of his strength 
and skill in wrestling with them. He is making perpetual trials of them 
as if his mastery over them were doubted. ... A beautiful thought is sure 
to be lost in an endless commentary upon it. . . . There is, besides, a 
strange attempt to substitute the language of painting for that of poetry, 
to make us see their feelings in the faces of the persons." — Characters of 
Shakspere's Plays (ed. 1818), pp. 348, 349. Coleridge's much more favor- 
able criticism will be found in Biographia Literaria (ed. 1847), vo ^ "• cn - 
ii. The peculiarity of the poems last noticed in the extract from Hazlitt 
is ingeniously accounted for by Coleridge. " The great instinct which 
impelled the poet to the drama was secretly working in him, prompting 
him ... to provide a substitute for that visual language, that constant 
intervention and running comment by tone, look, and gesture, which in 
his dramatic works he was entitled to expect from the players" (pp. 
18, 19). 



INTRODUCTION. 35 

a Jack-of-all-trades, a "Johannes-factotum;" he is obliging 
and free from self-assertion ; he is waiting his time ; he is 
not yet sure of himself; he finds it the sensible thing not to 
profess singularity. "Divers of worship" report his "up- 
rightness of dealing ;" he is "excellent in the quality he pro- 
fesses ;"* his demeanor is civil ; he is recognized even already 
as having a "facetious grace in writing." f Let us not sup- 
pose, because Shakspere declines to assault the real world 
and the world of imagination, and take them by violence, 
that he is therefore a person of slight force of character. 
He is determined to master both these worlds, if possible. 
He approaches them with a facile and engaging air ; by-and- 
by his grasp upon facts will tighten. From Marlowe and 
from Milton half of the world escapes. Shakspere will lay 
hold of it in its totality, and, once that he has laid hold of it, 
will never let it go. 

[From Mr. F. J. FumivalVs Comments on the Poems. {] 
In the Venus and Adonis we have the same luxuriance of 
fancy, the same intensity of passion, as in Romeo and Juliet, 
illegitimate and unlawful though the indulgence in that 
passion is. We have the link with the Midsummer •- Night 's 
Dream in the stanza " Bid me discourse," and the hounds 
hunting the hare. The poem was entered on the Station- 
ers' Register and published in 1593, and must be of nearly 
the same date as the Romeo and Juliet. It is dedicated to 
Shakspere's young patron, Henry, Earl of Southampton; 

* On the special use of the word " quality " for the stage -player's pro- 
fession, see a note by Hermann Kurz in his article, " Shakespeare der 
Schauspieler," Shakespeare-Jahrbuch, vol. vi. pp. 317, 318. 

t Chettle's "Kind Heart's Dream," 1592. But see Mr. Howard Staun- 
ton's letter in The Athencztim, Feb. 7, 1874; Mr. Simpson's article, 
"Shakspere Allusion Books," The Academy, April 11, 1874; and Dr. 
Ingleby's preface to Shakspere Allusion Books, published for the New 
Shakspere Society. 

t The Leopold Shakspere (London, 1877), p. xxx. fol. 



36 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

and I would fain believe the subject was set him by that 
patron. But from whatever source came the impulse to take 
from Ovid the heated story of the heathen goddess's lust, we 
cannot forbear noticing how through this stifling atmosphere 
Shakspere has blown the fresh breezes of English meads and 
downs. Midsummer- Nigh fs Dream itself is not fuller of 
evidence of Shakspere's intimate knowledge of, and intense 
delight in, country scenes and sights, whether shown in his 
description of horse and hounds, or in closer touches, like 
that of the hush of wind before the rain ; while such lines 
as those about the eagle flapping, "shaking its wings" (57), 
over its food, send us still to the Zoological Gardens to ver- 
ify. Two lines there are, reflecting Shakspere's own expe- 
rience of life — his own early life in London possibly — which 
we must not fail to note ; they are echoed in Hamlet : 

"For misery is trodden on by many, 
And being low, never reliev'd by any." 

'T was a lesson plainly taught by the Elizabethan days, 
and the Victorian preach it too. It has been the fashion 
lately to run down the Venus as compared with Marlowe's 
Hero and Leander. Its faults are manifest. It shows less 
restraint and training than the work of the earlier-ripened 
Marlowe ; but to me it has a fulness of power and promise 
of genius enough to make three Marlowes. . . . 

Though the Venus was dedicated by Shakspere, when twen- 
ty-nine, to the Earl of Southampton before he was twenty,* 
and cannot be called an improving poem for a young noble- 
man to read, we must remember the difference between the 

* He was born October 6, 1573 ; his father died October 4, 1581 ; he 
entered at St. John's College, Cambridge, on December 11, 1585, just 
after he was twelve; took his degree of Master of Arts before he was 
sixteen, on June 6, 1589 ; and soon after entered at Gray's Inn, London. 
He was a ward of Lord Burghley. He became a favourite of Queen 
Elizabeth's, but lost her favour, in 1595, for making love to Elizabeth 
Vernon (Essex's cousin), whom he married later, in 1598. (Massey's 
Shakspere's Sonnets, p. 53, etc.) 



INTRODUCTION. 37 

Elizabethan times and our own. Then, not one in a thou- 
sand of the companions of poets would have complained of 
Shakspere's choice of subject, or thought it other than as 
legitimate as its treatment was beautiful. The same subject 
was repeated perhaps by Shakspere in some sonnets of The 
Passionate Pilgrim; and a like one, in higher and happier 
tone, was made the motive of his All 's Well that Ends Well 
— as I believe, the recast of his early Love's Labours Won. 
However it grates on one to compare the true and loving 
Helena with the lustful Venus, one must admit that the pur- 
suit of an unwilling man by a willing woman — though he was 
no Joseph, and she no Potiphar's wife — was not so distaste- 
ful to the Elizabethan age as it is to the Victorian. Consta- 
ble's best poem (printed in 1600) treats the same topic as 
Shakspere's first : its title is The Shepherd's Song of Venus 
and Adonis* 

Of possession and promise in Shakspere's first poem, we 
have an intense love of nature, and a conviction (which nev- 
er left him) of her sympathy with the moods of men ; a pene- 
trating eye ; a passionate soul ;f a striking power of throw- 
ing himself into all he sees, and reproducing it living and 
real to his reader ; a lively fancy, command of words, and 
music of verse ; these wielded by a shaping spirit that strives 
to keep each faculty under one control, and guide it while 
doing its share of the desired whole. . . . 

The first X allusion to the Venus is by Meres in 1598 : . . . 

* Lodge has three stanzas in his Glaucus and Sdl/a, 1589, on Adonis's 
death, and Venus coming down to his corpse. 

t "A young poet can, at most, give evidence of ardent feeling and 
fresh imagination."— Mark Pattison, Mactnillan's Magazine, March, 1875, 
p. 386. 

% If there really was an earlier edition in 1595, or any year before 1598, 
of John Weever's Epigrammes, which we know only in the edition of 
1599, then Weever was before Meres in recognizing the merit of Shak- 
spere's Venus, Lucrece, Romeo, and Richard. See the Epigram 22, in 
the New Shakspere Society's Allusion Books, Pt. I. p. 182. 



38 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

"witness his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece" etc. In 1598 
the two poems were again noticed in " A Remembrance of 
some English Poets," the fourth tract in a volume called 
Poems : in Diuers Humors, of which the first tract bears 
Richard Barnfield's name : 

" And Shakespeare thou, whose hony-flowing Vaine, 
(Pleasing the World) thy Praises doth obtaine ; 
Whose Venus, and whose Lucrece (sweete and chaste), 
Thy Name in fame's immortall Booke have plac't. 

Liue ever you ! at least, in Fame liue ever ! 

Well may the Bodye dye ; but Fame dies neuer." 

In the same year, 1598, the satirist, John Marston,* pub- 
lished " the first heir of his invention," which he called (p. 202) 
" the first bloomes of my poesie," " The Metamorphosis of 
Pigmalion's Image. And Certaine Satyres" {Works, 1856, 
iii. 199), and in it, says Mr. Minto {Characteristics of Eng- 
lish Poets, 1874, p. 437), reviving an old theory, "Shakspere's 
Venus and Adonis was singled out as the type of dangerously 
voluptuous poetry, and unmercifully parodied ; the acts of 
the goddess to win over the cold youth being coarsely par- 
alleled in mad mockery by the acts of Pygmalion to bring 
his beloved statue to life." Now the fact is, that there is no 
trace of "mad mockery" or parody in Marston's poem, 
though there are echoes in it of Venus, as there are of Rich- 
ard III.fi Hamlet, etc., in Marston's Scourge of Villanie, his 

* See the character given of him in the most interesting Return from 
Parnassus (about 1602, published 1606), Hazlitt's Dodsley,ix. 116, 117. 
Also the anecdote in Manningham's Diary. 

t "A horse ! a horse ! My kingdom for a horse !" (1607. What You 
Will, act ii. sc. i. Works, i. 239). "A man ! a man ! a kingdom for a 
man!" (1598. Scourge of Villanie. Works, iii. 278). And he repeats 
the call, " A man, a man !" thrice in the next two pages (Shakspere Allu- 
sion Books, i. 188. New Shakspere Society). See, too, "A foole, a foole, 
a foole, my coxcombe for a foole !" {Fawn, 1606, act v. sc. i. Works, ii. 
89) ; and on p. 23, Hercules's imitation of Iago's speech to Roderigo, in 
Othello, ii. 40-60 (Nicholson). Again, in The Malcontent, 1607, act iii. 
sc. iii. ( Works, i. 239), " Ho, ho ! ho, ho ! arte there, olde true pennye ;" 



INTRODUCTION. 39 

Fawn, etc. ; and the far more probable view of the case is 
that put forward by Dr. Brinsley Nicholson : that Marston, 
being young, and of a warm temperament and licentious dis- 
position, followed the lead of a poem then in everybody's 
mouth* (Shakspere's Venus), and produced his Pigmaliorts 
Image; but being able only to heighten the Venus's sensual- 
ity, and leave out its poetry and bright outdoor life, he dis- 
gusted his readers, had his poem suppressed by Whitgift and 
Bancroft's order, and then tried to get out of the scrape by 
saying that he had written his nastiness only to condemn 
other poets for writing theirs ! A likely story indeed ! But 
let him tell it himself. In his " Satyre VI." of his Scourge of 
Villanie, 1598 (completed in 1599), Works, 1856, iii. 274, 275, 

he says : 

" Curio ! know'st my sprite ; 
Yet deem'st that in sad seriousness I write 
Such nasty stuffe as is Pigmalion ? 
Such maggot-tainted, lewd corruption ! . . . 
Think'st thou that I, which was create to whip 
Incarnate fiends . . . 
Think'st thou that I in melting poesie 
Will pamper itching sensualitie, 
That in the bodies scumme, all fatally 
Intombes the soules most sacred faculty ? 

from Hamlet, etc. Compare, too, Lampatho in The Malcontent (vol. i. p. 
236) with Armado in Love's Labours Lost. Marston was steeped in Shak- 
spere, though to little good. 

* See The Fair Maid of the Exchange: 

" Crip{ple\. But heave you sir? reading so much as you haue done, 
Doe you not remember one pretty phrase, 
To scale the walks of a faire wenches loue? 

Bow\_dler\ I never read any thing but Venus and Adonis. 

Crip. Why that 's the very quintessence of loue ; 
If you remember but a verse or two, 
He pawne my head, goods, lands, and all, 't will doe." 

In R. Baron's "Fortune's Tennis-ball" {Pocula Castalia, 1640) are, says 
Dr. B. Nicholson, many appropriations from Venus and Adonis, suddenly 
occurring where hunting is spoken of. Falstaff is also referred to ; and 
at the end are many appropriations from Ben Jonson's Hymencei. 



4o 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



Hence, thou misjudging censor ! know, I wrot 
Those idle rimes to note the odious spot 
And blemish that deformes the lineaments 
Of moderne poesies habiliments. 
Oh that the beauties of invention* 
For want of judgements disposition, 
Should all be spoil'd ! " . . . 

Then, after describing seven types of poets — of whom the 
fifth may be Shakspere,| and the sixth Ben Jonson (comp. p. 
245) — Marston goes on to satirize the readers of his and 
other writers' loose poems, for whom he " slubber'd up that 
chaos indigest " of his Pigmalion. This epithet is certainly 
not consistent with the dedication of his poem to Good Opin- 
ion and his Mistress ; and his excuse for his failure in it is 
plainly an after-thought. But whatever we determine as to 
Marston's motives and honesty, we shall all join in regret- 
ting the " want of judgements disposition " that let Shakspere 
choose Venus X for an early place in his glorious gallery of 
women — forms whose radiant purity and innocence have 
won all hearts; though we will remember this fault only as 
the low level from which he rose on stepping-stones of his 
dead self to higher things. He who put Venus near the be- 
ginning of his career, ended with Miranda, Perdita, Imogen, 
and Queen Katherine. Let them make atonement for her ! 

* Comp. Shakspere's " First heir of my invention." 
f Yon 's one whose straines haue flowne so high a pitch, 

That straight he flags, and tumbles in a ditch. 
His sprightly hot high-soring poesie 
Is like that dream' d-of imagery, 
Whose head was gold, brest silver, brassie thigh, 
Lead leggs, clay feete : O faire fram'd poesie !" 
That Shakspere's subject was clay, and his verse gold, is certainly true. 

% The author of the Return from Parnassus (written about 1602, pub- 
lished 1606), puts it thus (Hazlitt's Dodsley, ix. 118) : 
"William Shakespeare? 
Who loves Adonis' love or Lucrece rape: 
His sweeter verse contains heart-robbing life, 
Could but a graver subject him content. 
Without love's foolish, lazy languishment. " 




THE EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON. 



TO THE 

RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY, 

earl of southampton and baron of tichfield. 

Right Honourable, 

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to 
your Lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so 
strong a prop to support so weak a burthen : only if your honour seem 
but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advan- 
tage of all idle hours till I have honoured you with some graver labour. 
But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it 
had so noble a godfather, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear 
it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, 
and your honour to your heart's content, which I wish may always 
answer your own wish, and the world's hopeful expectation. 
Your Honour's in all duty, 

William Shakespeare. 




£-*^- 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 

Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face 
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn, 
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase; 
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn: 
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him, 
And like a bold-fac'd suitor gins to woo him. 

' Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began, 
' The field's chief flower, sweet above compare, 
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man, 
More white and red than doves or roses are, 
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife, 
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life. 

' Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed, 
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow ; 
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed 
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know: 
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses, 
And being set I '11 smother thee with kisses ; 



44 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

1 And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety, 
But rather famish them amid their plenty, 20 

Making them red and pale with fresh variety, 
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty : 
A summer's day will seem an hour but short, 
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport' 

With this she seizeth on his sweating palm, 
The precedent of pith and livelihood, 
And, trembling in her passion, calls it balm, 
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good ; 
Being so enrag'd, desire doth lend her force 
Courageously to pluck him from his horse. 30 

Over one arm the lusty courser's rein, 
Under her other was the tender boy, 
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain, 
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy ; 

She red and hot as coals of glowing fire, 

He red for shame, but frosty in desire. 

The studded bridle on a ragged bough 

Nimbly she fastens — O how quick is love! — 

The steed is stalled up, and even now 

To tie the rider she begins to prove; 40 

Backward she push'd him, as she would be thrust, 
And govern'd him in strength, though not in lust. 

So soon was she along as he was down, 
Each leaning on their elbows and their hips; 
Now doth she stroke his cheek, now doth he frown, 
And gins to chide, but soon she stops his lips, 
And kissing speaks, with lustful language broken, 
'If thou wilt chide, thy lips shall never open.' 

He burns with bashful shame, she with her tears 
Doth quench the maiden burning of his cheeks; 50 



VENUS AND ADONIS. ^ 

Then with her windy sighs and golden hairs 
To fan and blow them dry again she seeks : 
He saith she is immodest, blames her miss \ 
What follows more she murthers with a kiss. 

Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast, 
Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone, 
Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste, 
Till either gorge be stuff'd, or prey be gone; 
Even so she kiss'd his brow, his cheek, his chin, 
And where she ends she cloth anew begin. 60 

Forc'd to content, but never to obey, 
Panting he lies, and breatheth in her face: 
She feedeth on the steam as on a prey, 
And calls it heavenly moisture, air of grace; 

Wishing her cheeks were gardens full of flowers, 
So they were dew'd with such distilling showers. 

Look how a bird lies tangled in a net, 

So fasten'd in her arms Adonis lies ; 

Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret, 

Which bred more beauty in his angry eyes : 70 

Rain added to a river that is rank 
Perforce will force it overflow the bank. 

Still she entreats, and prettily entreats, 

For to a pretty ear she tunes her tale ; 

Still is he sullen, still he lowers and frets, 

'Twixt crimson shame and anger ashy-pale : 

Being red, she loves him best; and being white, 
Her best is better'd with a more delight. 

Look how he can, she cannot choose but love; 

And by her fair immortal hand she swears 80 

From his soft bosom never to remove 

Till he take truce with her contending tears, 



4 6 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Which long have rain'd, making her cheeks all wet; 
And one sweet kiss shall pay this countless debt. 

Upon this promise did he raise his chin, 
Like a dive-dapper peering through a wave, 
Who, being look'd on, ducks as quickly in ; 
So offers he to give what she did crave, 
But when her lips were ready for his pay, 
He winks, and turns his lips another way. 90 

Never did passenger in summer's heat 
More thirst for drink than she for this good turn. 
Her help she sees, but help she cannot get; 
She bathes in water, yet her fire must burn : 

'O, pity,' gan she cry, 'flint-hearted boy! 

'T is but a kiss I beg ; why art thou coy ? 

' I have been woo'd, as I entreat thee now, 
Even by the stern and direful god of war, 
Whose sinewy neck in battle ne'er did bow, 
Who conquers where he comes in every jar; 100 

Yet hath he been my captive and my slave, 
And begg'd for that which thou unask'd shalt have. 

'Over my altars hath he hung his lance, 
His batter'd shield, his uncontrolled crest, 
And for my sake hath learned to sport and dance, 
To toy, to wanton, dally, smile, and jest, 
Scorning his churlish drum and ensign red, 
Making my arms his field, his tent my bed. 

1 Thus he that overrul'd I oversway'd, 

Leading him prisoner in a red-rose chain ; no 

Strong-temper'd steel his stronger strength obey'd, 

Yet was he servile to my coy disdain. 

O, be not proud, nor brag not of thy might, 
For mastering her that foil'd the god of fight ! 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 47 

' Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine, — 
Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red — 
The kiss shall be thine own as well as mine. 
What seest thou in the ground? hold up thy head: 

Look in mine eye-balls, there thy beauty lies ; 

Then why not lips on lips, since eyes in eyes? 120 

'Art thou asham'd to kiss! then wink again, 

And I will wink; so shall the day seem night; 

Love keeps his revels where there are but twain; 

Be bold to play, our sport is not in sight : 
These blue-vein'd violets whereon we lean 
Never can blab, nor know not what we mean. 

'The tender spring upon thy tempting lip 

Shows thee unripe, yet mayst thou well be tasted; 

Make use of time, let not advantage slip; 

Beauty within itself should not be wasted : 130 

Fair flowers that are not gather'd in their prime 
Rot and consume themselves in little time. 

'Were I hard-favour'd, foul, or wrinkled-old, 
Ill-nurtur'd, crooked, churlish, harsh in voice, 
O'erworn, despised, rheumatic and cold, 
Thick-sighted, barren, lean and lacking juice, 

Then mightst thou pause, for then I were not for thee ; 

But having no defects, why dost abhor me? 

'Thou canst not see one wrinkle in my brow; 

Mine eyes are gray and bright and quick in turning; 

My beauty as the spring doth yearly grow ; r 4 i 

My flesh is soft and plump, my marrow burning; 
My smooth moist hand, were it with thy hand felt, 
Would in thy palm dissolve, or seem to melt. 

'Bid me discourse, I will enchant thine ear, 
Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green, 



4 8 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair, 
Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen; 

Love is a spirit all compact of fire, 

Not gross to sink, but light, and will aspire. 150 

' Witness this primrose bank whereon I lie ; 

These forceless flowers like sturdy trees support me ; 

Two strengthless doves will draw me through the sky, 

From morn till night, even where I list to sport me: 
Is love so light, sweet boy, and may it be 
That thou shouldst think it heavy unto thee ? 

' Is thine own heart to thine own face affected? 

Can thy right hand seize love upon thy left? 

Then woo thyself, be of thyself rejected, 

Steal thine own freedom and complain on theft. 160 

Narcissus so himself himself forsook, 
And died to kiss his shadow in the brook. 

'Torches are made to light, jewels to wear, 
Dainties to taste, fresh beauty for the use, 
Herbs for their smell, and sappy plants to bear; 
Things growing to themselves are growth's abuse : 

Seeds spring from seeds and beauty breedeth beauty; 

Thou wast begot; to get it is thy duty. 

' Upon the earth's increase why shouldst thou feed, 
Unless the earth with thy increase be fed ? 170 

By law of nature thou art bound to breed, 
That thine may live when thou thyself art dead ; 
•* And so, in spite of death, thou dost survive, 
In that thy likeness still is left alive.' 

By this the love-sick queen began to sweat, 
For where they lay the shadow had forsook them, 
And Titan, tired in the mid-day heat, 
With burning eye did hotly overlook them ; 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



49 



Wishing Adonis had his team to guide, 

So he were like him and by Venus' side. 180 

And now Adonis, with a lazy spright, 

And with a heavy, dark, disliking eye, 

His lowering brows o'erwhelming his fair sight, 

Like misty vapours when they blot the sky, 

Souring his cheeks, cries ' Fie, no more of love! 

The sun doth burn my face; I must remove.' 

' Ay me,' quoth Venus, ' young and so unkind ? 

What bare excuses mak'st thou to be gone ! 

I '11 sigh celestial breath, whose gentle wind 

Shall cool the heat of this descending sun: 190 

I '11 make a shadow for thee of my hairs; 

If they burn too, I '11 quench them with my tears. 

'The sun that shines from heaven shines but warm, 
And, lo, I lie between that sun and thee : 
The heat I have from thence doth little harm, 
Thine eye darts forth the fire that burnetii me; 

And were I not immortal, life were clone 

Between this heavenly and earthly sun. 

1 Art thou obdurate, flinty, hard as steel, 
Nay, more than flint, for stone at rain relenteth? 200 

Art thou a woman's son, and canst not feel 
What 't is to love? how want of love tormenteth? 
O, had thy mother borne so hard a mind, 
She had not brought forth thee, but died unkind ! 

'What am I, that thou shouldst contemn me this? 

Or what great danger dwells upon my suit? 

What were thy lips the worse for one poor kiss? 

Speak, fair; but speak fair words, or else be mute : 
Give me one kiss, I '11 give it thee again, 
And one for interest, if thou wilt have twain. 210 

D 



5© SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

'Fie, lifeless picture, cold and senseless stone, 
Well-painted idol, image dull and dead, 
Statue contenting but the eye alone, 
Thing like a man, but of no woman bred ! 

Thou art no man, though of a man's complexion ; 

For men will kiss even by their own direction.' 

This said, impatience chokes her pleading tongue, 

And swelling passion doth provoke a pause; 

Red cheeks and fiery eyes blaze forth her wrong; 

Being judge in love, she cannot right her cause : 220 
And now she weeps, and now she fain would speak, 
And now her sobs do her intendments break. 

Sometimes she shakes her head and then his hand, 
Now gazeth she on him, now on the ground ; 
Sometimes her arms infold him like a band: 
She would, he will not in her arms be bound; 

And when from thence he struggles to be gone, 

She locks her lily fingers one in one. 

* Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here 
Within the circuit of this ivory pale, 230 

I '11 be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; 
Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale: 
Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, 
Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie. 

'Within this limit is relief enough, 
Sweet bottom-grass and high delightful plain, 
Round rising hillocks, brakes obscure and rough, 
To shelter thee from tempest and from rain : 

Then be my deer, since I am such a park; 

No dog shall rouse thee, though a thousand bark.' 240 

At this Adonis smiles as in disdain, 

That in each cheek appears a pretty dimple: 



& 



VENUS AND ADONIS. ^ 

Love made those hollows, if himself were slain, 
He"might be buried in a tomb so simple ; 
Foreknowing well, if there he came to lie, 
Why, there Love liv'd and there he could not die. 

These lovely caves, these round enchanting pits, 

Open'd their mouths to swallow Venus' liking. 

Being mad before, how doth she now for wits? 

Struck dead at first, what needs a second striking? 250 
Poor queen of love, in thine own law forlorn, 
To love a cheek that smiles at thee in scorn ! 

Now which way shall she turn? what shall she say? 

Her words are done, her woes the more increasing; 

The time is spent, her object will away, 

And from her twining arms doth urge releasing. 
' Pity,' she cries, ' some favour, some remorse !' 
Away he springs and hasteth to his horse. 

But, lo, from forth a copse that neighbours by, 
A breeding jennet, lusty, young, and proud, 260 

Adonis' trampling courser doth espy, 
And forth she rushes, snorts, and neighs aloud; 
The strong-neck'd steed, being tied unto a tree, 
Breaketh his rein, and to her straight goes he. 

Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds, 
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder; 
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds, 
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder; 
The iron bit he crushes 'tween his teeth, 
Controlling what he was controlled with. 270 

His ears up-prick'd; his braided hanging mane 
Upon his compass'd crest now stand on end; 
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again, 
As from a furnace, vapours cloth he send ; 



52 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire, 
Shows his hot courage and his high desire. 

Sometime he trots, as if he told the steps, 

With gentle majesty and modest pride; 

Anon he rears upright, curvets, and leaps, 

As who should say ' Lo, thus my strength is tried, 280 

And this I do to captivate the eye 

Of the fair breeder that is standing by.' 

What recketh he his rider's angry stir, 

His flattering ' Holla,' or his ' Stand, I say ' ? 

What cares he now for curb or pricking spur? 

For rich caparisons or trapping gay? 

He sees his love, and nothing else he sees, 
For nothing else with his proud sight agrees. 

Look, when a painter would surpass the life, 
In limning out a well-proportion'd steed, 290 

His art with nature's workmanship at strife, 
As if the dead the living should exceed ; 
So did this horse excel a common one 
In shape, in courage, colour, pace, and bone. 

Round-hoof'd, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long, 
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide, 
High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong, 
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide: 
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack, 
Save a proud rider on so proud a back. 300 

Sometime he scuds far off, and there he stares ; 

Anon he starts at stirring of a feather; 

To bid the wind a base he now prepares, 

And whether he run or fly they know not whether; 
For through his mane and tail the high wind sings, 
Fanning the hairs, who wave like feather'd wings. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 

He looks upon his love and neighs unto her; 
She answers him as if she knew his mind : 
Being proud, as females are, to see him woo her, 
She puts on outward strangeness, seems unkind, 
Spurns at his love and scorns the heat he feels, 
Beating his kind embracements with her heels. 

Then, like a melancholy malcontent, 
He vails his tail that, like a falling plume, 
Cool shadow to his melting buttock lent; 
He stamps and bites the poor flies in his fume. 
His love, perceiving how he is enrag'd, 
Grew kinder, and his fury was assuag'd. 

His testy master goeth about to take him; 
When, lo, the unback'd breeder, full of fear, 
Jealous of catching, swiftly doth forsake him, 
With her the horse, and left Adonis there : 

As they were mad, unto the wood they hie them, 
Out-stripping crows that strive to over-fly them. 

All swoln with chafing, down Adonis sits, 
Banning his boisterous and unruly beast: 
And now the happy season once more fits, 
That love-sick Love by pleading may be blest; 
For lovers say, the heart hath treble wrong 
When it is barr'd the aidance of the tongue. 

An oven that is stopp'd, or river stay'd, 

Burneth more hotly, swelleth with more rage: 

So of concealed sorrow may be said; 

Free vent of words love's fire doth assuage; 
But when the heart's attorney once is mute, 
The client breaks, as desperate in his suit. 

He sees her coming, and begins to glow, 
Even as a dying coal revives with wind, 



53 



35° 



54 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

And with his bonnet hides his angry brow; 

Looks on the dull earth with disturbed mind, 
Taking no notice that she is so nigh, 
For all askance he holds her in his eye. 

O, what a sight it was, wistly to view 
How she came stealing to the wayward boy! 
To note the fighting conflict of her hue, 
How white and red each other did destroy! 
But now her cheek was pale, and by and by 
It flash'd forth fire, as lightning from the sky. 

Now was she just before him as he sat, 
And like a lowly lover down she kneels; 
With one fair hand she heaveth up his hat, 
Her other tender hand his fair cheek feels: 

His tenderer cheek receives her soft hand's print, 
As apt as new-fallen snow takes any dint. 

O, what a war of looks was then between them ! 

Her eyes petitioners to his eyes suing; 

His eyes saw her eyes as they had not seen them ; 

Her eyes woo'd still, his eyes disdain'd the wooing : 
And all this dumb play had his acts made plain 
With tears, which, chorus-like, her eyes did rain. 360 

Full gently now she takes him by the hand, 

A lily prison'd in a gaol of snow, 

Or ivory in an alabaster band ; 

So white a friend engirts so white a foe: 

This beauteous combat, wilful and unwilling, 
Show'd like two silver doves that sit a-billing. 

Once more the engine of her thoughts began: 

l O fairest mover on this mortal round, 

Would thou wert as I am, and I a man, 

My heart all whole as thine, thy heart my wound ; 370 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



55 



For one sweet look thy help I would assure thee, 
Though nothing but my body's bane would cure thee.' 

* Give me my hand,' saith he, ' why dost thou feel it ?' 
{ Give me my heart,' saith she, ' and thou shalt have it; 
O, give it me, lest thy hard heart do steel it, 
And being steel'd, soft sighs can never grave it : 
Then love's deep groans I never shall regard, 
Because Adonis' heart hath made mine hard.' 

' For shame,' he cries, ' let go, and let me go ; 

My day's delight is past, my horse is gone, 380 

And 't is your fault I am bereft him so: 

I pray you hence, and leave me here alone ; 
For all my mind, my thought, my busy care, 
Is how to get my palfrey from the mare.' 

Thus she replies : ' Thy palfrey, as he should, 
Welcomes the warm approach of sweet desire : 
Affection is a coal that must be cool'd ; 
Else, suffer'd, it will set the heart on fire: 

The sea hath bounds, but deep desire hath none ; 

Therefore no marvel though thy horse be gone. 390 

' How like a jade he stood, tied to the tree, 
Servilely master'd with a leathern rein ! v 
But when he saw his love, his youth's fair fee, 
He held such petty bondage in disdain ; 

Throwing the base thong from his bending crest, 
Enfranchising his mouth, his back, his breast. 

'Who sees his true-love in her naked bed, 
Teaching the sheets a whiter hue than white, 
But, when his glutton eye so full hath fed, 
His other agents aim at like delight? 400 

Who is so faint, that dare not be so bold 
To touch the fire, the weather being cold ? 



56 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

I Let me excuse thy courser, gentle boy ; 
And learn of him, I heartily beseech thee, 
To take advantage on presented joy; 

Though I were dumb, yet his proceedings teach thee : 
O, learn to love ; the lesson is but plain, 
And once made perfect, never lost again.' 

I I know not love,' quoth he, ' nor will not know it, 
Unless it be a boar, and then I chase it; 4»o 
'T is much to borrow, and I will not owe it ; 

My love to love is love but to disgrace it; 
For I have heard it is a life in death, 
That laughs and weeps, and all but with a breath. 

'Who wears a garment shapeless and unfinish'd? 

Who plucks the bud before one leaf put forth ? 

If springing things be any jot diminish'd, 

They wither in their prime, prove nothing worth; 
The colt that 's back'd and burden'd being young 
Loseth his pride and never waxeth strong. 420 

'You hurt my hand with wringing; let us part, 
And leave this idle theme, this bootless chat : 
Remove your siege from my unyielding heart; 
To love's alarms it will not ope the gate: 

Dismiss your vows, your feigned tears, your flattery; 

For where a heart is hard they make no battery.' 

1 What ! canst thou talk ?' quoth she/ hast thou a tongue? 

O, would thou hadst not, or I had no hearing ! 

Thy mermaid's voice hath done me double wrong ; 

I had my load before, now press'd with bearing : 430 

Melodious discord, heavenly tune harsh-sounding, 
Ear's deep-sweet music, and heart's deep-sore wound- 
ing. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 57 

' Had I no eyes but ears, my ears would love 

That inward beauty and invisible; 

Or were I deaf, thy outward parts would move 

Each part in me that were but sensible: 

Though neither eyes nor ears, to hear nor see, 
Yet should I be in love by touching thee. 

1 Say, that the sense of feeling were bereft me, 
And that I could not see, nor hear, nor touch, 44° 

And nothing but the very smell were left me, 
Yet would my love to thee be still as much ; 
For from the stillitory of thy face excelling 
Comes breath perfum'd that breedeth love by smelling. 

' But, O, what banquet wert thou to the taste, 

Being nurse and feeder of the other four ! 

Would they not wish the feast might ever last, 

And bid Suspicion double-lock the door, 
Lest Jealousy, that sour unwelcome guest, 
Should, by his stealing in, disturb the feast V 45° 

Once more the ruby-colour'd portal open'd, 
Which to his speech did honey passage yield ; 
Like a red morn, that ever yet betoken'd 
Wrack to the seaman, tempest to the field, 
Sorrow to shepherds, woe unto the birds, 
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds. 

This ill presage advisedly she marketh \ 
Even as the wind is hush'd before it raineth, 
Or as the wolf doth grin before he barketh, 
Or as the berry breaks before it staineth, 460 

Or like the deadly bullet of a gun, 
His meaning struck her ere his words begun. 

And at his look she flatly falleth down, 

For looks kill love and love by looks reviveth ; 



58 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

A smile recures the wounding of a frown ; 

But blessed bankrupt, that by love so thriveth ! 
The silly boy, believing she is dead, 
Claps her pale cheek, till clapping makes it red; 

And all amaz'd brake off his late intent, 

For sharply he did think to reprehend her, 470 

Which cunning love did wittily prevent: 

Fair fall the wit that can so well defend her ! 
For on the grass she lies as she were slain, 
Till his breath breatheth life in her again. 

He wrings her nose, he strikes her on the cheeks, 
He bends her fingers, holds her pulses hard, 
He chafes her lips ; a thousand ways he seeks 
To mend the hurt that his unkindness marr'd : 
He kisses her; and she, by her good will, 
Will never rise, so he will kiss her still. 480 

The night of sorrow now is turn'd to day ; 
Her two blue windows faintly she upheaveth, 
Like the fair sun, when in his fresh array 
He cheers the morn and all the earth relieveth; 

And as the bright sun glorifies the sky, 

So is her face illumin'd with her eye, 

Whose beams upon his hairless face are fix'd, 
As if from thence they borrow'd all their shine. 
Were never four such lamps together mix'd, 
Had not his clouded with his brow's repine ; 490 

But hers, which through the crystal tears gave light, 
Shone like the moon in water seen by night. 

* O, where am I ?' quoth she, ' in earth or heaven, 
Or in the ocean drench'd, or in the fire ? 
What hour is this ? or morn or weary even ? 
Do I delight to die, or life desire ? 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 

But now I liv'd, and life was death's annoy ; 
But now I died, and death was lively joy. 

*0, thou didst kill me; kill me once again : 
Thy eyes' shrewd tutor, that hard heart of thine, 
Hath taught them scornful tricks and such disdain 
That they have murther'd this poor heart of mine ; 
And these mine eyes, true leaders to their queen, 
But for thy piteous lips no more had seen. 

'Long may they kiss each other, for this cure ! 

O, never let their crimson liveries wear ! 

And as they last, their verdure still endure, 

To drive infection from the dangerous year ! 
That the star-gazers, having writ on death, 
May say, the plague is banish'd by thy breath. 

' Pure lips, sweet seals in my soft lips imprinted, 
What bargains may I make, still to be sealing? 
To sell myself I can be well contented, 
So thou wilt buy and pay and use good dealing; 
Which purchase if thou make, for fear of slips 
Set thy seal-manual on my wax-red lips. 

' A thousand kisses buys my heart from me; 

And pay them at thy leisure, one by one. 

What is ten hundred touches unto thee ? 

Are they not quickly told and quickly gone ? 

Say, for non-payment that the debt should double, 
Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble ?' 

' Fair queen,' quoth he, ' if any love you owe me, 
Measure my strangeness with my unripe years : 
Before I know myself, seek not to know me; 
No fisher but the ungrown fry forbears : 

The mellow plum doth fall, the green sticks fast, 
Or being early pluck'd is sour to taste. 



59 



60 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

' Look, the world's comforter, with weary gait, 
His day's hot task hath ended in the west ; 530 

The owl, night's herald, shrieks, " 'T is very late ;" 
The sheep are gone to fold, birds to their nest, 
And coal-black clouds that shadow heaven's light 
Do summon us to part and bid good night. 

* Now let me say " Good night," and so say you ; 
If you will say so, you shall have a kiss.' 
' Good night,' quoth she, and, ere he says ' Adieu,' 
The honey fee of parting tender'd is: 

Her arms do lend his neck a sweet embrace; 

Incorporate then they seem ; face grows to face. 540 

Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew 
The heavenly moisture, that sweet coral mouth, 
Whose precious taste her thirsty lips well knew, 
Whereon they surfeit, yet complain on drouth : 
He with her plenty press'd, she faint with dearth, 
Their lips together glued, fall to the earth. 

Now quick desire hath caught the yielding prey, 

And glutton-like she feeds, yet never filleth; 

Her lips are conquerors, his lips obey, 

Paying what ransom the insulter willeth; 550 

Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high, 
That she will draw his lips' rich treasure dry: 

And having felt the sweetness of the spoil, 
With blindfold fury she begins to forage; 
Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil, 
And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage; 
Planting oblivion, beating reason back, 
Forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's wrack. 

Hot, faint, and weary, with her hard embracing, 

Like a wild bird being tam'd with too much handling, 



VENUS AA T D A DO X IS. 6 1 

Or as the fleet-foot roe that 's tir'd with chasing, 561 
Or like the froward infant still'd with dandling, 
He now obeys, and now no more resisteth, 
While she takes all she can, not all she listeth. 

What wax so frozen but dissolves with tempering, 
And yields at last to every light impression ? 
Things out of hope are compass'd oft with venturing, 
Chiefly in love, whose leave exceeds commission; 
Affection faints not like a pale-fac'd coward, 
But then wooes best when most his choice is froward. 

When he did frown, O, had she then gave over, 571 

Such nectar from his lips she had not suck'd. 

Foul words and frowns must not repel a lover; 

What though the rose have prickles, yet 't is pluck'd: 
Were beauty under twenty locks kept fast, 
Yet love breaks through and picks them all at last. 

For pity now she can no more detain him ; 

The poor fool prays her that he may depart: 

She is resolv'd no longer to restrain him ; 

Bids him farewell, and look well to her heart, 580 

The which, by Cupid's bow she doth protest, 
He carries thence incaged in his breast. 

1 Sweet boy,' she says, ' this night I '11 waste in sorrow, 

For my sick heart commands mine eyes to watch. 

Tell me, Love's master, shall we meet to-morrow ? 

Say, shall we? shall we? wilt thou make the match?' 
He tells her, no ; to-morrow he intends 
To hunt the boar with certain of his friends. 

'The boar!' quoth she; whereat a sudden pale, 
Like lawn being spread upon the blushing rose, 590 

Usurps her cheek ; she trembles at his tale, 
And on his neck her yoking arms she throws: 



62 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

She sinketh down, still hanging by his neck, 
He on her belly falls, she on her back. 

Now is she in the very lists of love, 

Her champion mounted for the hot encounter: 

All is imaginary she doth prove, 

He will not manage her, although he mount her; 
That worse than Tantalus' is her annoy, 
To clip Elysium and to lack her joy. 600 

Even as poor birds, deceiv'd with painted grapes, 

Do surfeit by the eye and pine the maw, 

Even so she languisheth in her mishaps, 

As those poor birds that helpless berries saw. 
The warm effects which she in him finds missing 
She seeks to kindle with continual kissing:. 

But all in vain ; good queen, it will not be: 

She hath assay'd as much as may be prov'd ; 

Her pleading hath deserv'd a greater fee ; 

She 's Love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd. 610 

' Fie, fie,' he says, 'you crush me; let me go; 

You have no reason to withhold me so.' 

'Thou hadst been gone,' quoth she, 'sweet boy, ere this, 
But that thou told'st me thou wouldst hunt the boar. 
O, be advis'd ! thou know'st not what it is 
With javelin's point a churlish swine to gore, 

Whose tushes never sheath 'd he whetteth still, 

Like to a mortal butcher bent to kill. 

' On his bow-back he hath a battle set 

Of bristly pikes, that ever threat his foes; 620 

His eyes, like glow-worms, shine when he doth fret; 

His snout digs sepulchres where'er he goes; 
Being mov'd, he strikes whate'er is in his way, 
And whom he strikes his crooked tushes slay. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



63 



1 His brawny sides, with hairy bristles arm'd, 

Are better proof than thy spear's point can enter; 

His short thick neck cannot be easily harm'd; 

Being ireful, on the lion he will venture : 

The thorny brambles and embracing bushes, 

As fearful of him, part, through whom he rushes. 630 

' Alas, he nought esteems that face of thine, 
To which Love's eyes pay tributary gazes; 
Nor thy soft hands, sweet lips, and crystal eyne, 
Whose full perfection all the world amazes; 

But having thee at vantage, — wondrous dread ! — 
Would root these beauties as he roots the mead. 

'O, let him keep his loathsome cabin still; 

Beauty hath nought to do with such foul fiends : 

Come not within his danger by thy will ; 

They that thrive well take counsel of their friends. 6 4 o 
When thou didst name the boar, not to dissemble, 
I fear'd thy fortune, and my joints did tremble. 

' Didst thou not mark my face ? was it not white ? 

Saw'st thou not signs of fear lurk in mine eye ? 

Grew I not faint? and fell I not downright? 

W T ithin my bosom, whereon thou dost lie, 

My boding heart pants, beats, and takes no rest, 
But, like an earthquake, shakes thee on my breast. 

'For where Love reigns, disturbing Jealousy 

Doth call himself Affection's sentinel; 650 

Gives false alarms, suggesteth mutiny, 

And in a peaceful hour doth cry " Kill, kill !" 

Distempering gentle Love in his desire, 

As air and water do abate the fire. 

' This sour informer, this bate-breeding spy, 
This canker that eats up Love's tender spring, 



64 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

This carry-tale, dissentious Jealousy, 

That sometime true news, sometime false doth bring, 
Knocks at my heart and whispers in mine ear 
That if I love thee, I thy death should fear : 660 

' And more than so, presenteth to mine eye 
The picture of an angry-chafing boar, 
Under whose sharp fangs on his back doth lie 
An image like thyself, all stain'd with gore ; 

Whose blood upon the fresh flowers being shed 
Doth make them droop with grief and hang the head. 

'What should I do, seeing thee so indeed, 

That tremble at the imagination ? 

The thought of it doth make my faint heart bleed, 

And fear doth teach it divination ; 670 

I prophesy thy death, my living sorrow, 
If thou encounter with the boar to-morrow. 

'But if thou needs wilt hunt, be rul'd by me; 

Uncouple at the timorous flying hare, 

Or at the fox which lives by subtlety, 

Or at the roe which no encounter dare : 

Pursue these fearful creatures o'er the downs, 

And on thy well-breath'd horse keep with thy hounds. 

' And when thou hast on foot the purblind hare, 
Mark the poor wretch, to overshoot his troubles 680 

How he outruns the wind, and with what care 
He cranks and crosses with a thousand doubles; 
The many musits through the which he goes 
Are like a labyrinth to amaze his foes. 

' Sometime he runs among a flock of sheep, 
To make the cunning hounds mistake their smell, 
And sometime where earth-delving conies keep, 
To stop the loud pursuers in their yell, 



VENUS AND ADONIS. fa 

And sometime sorteth with a herd of deer; 

Danger deviseth shifts, wit waits on fear : 690 

1 For there his smell with others being mingled, 
The hot scent-snuffing hounds are driven to doubt, 
Ceasing their clamorous cry till they have singled 
With much ado the cold fault cleanly out; 

Then do they spend their mouths : Echo replies, 

As if another chase were in the skies. 

,' By this, poor Wat, far off upon a hill, 

Stands on his hinder legs with listening ear, 

To hearken if his foes pursue him still : 

Anon their loud alarums he doth hear ; 
And now his grief may be compared well 
To one sore sick that hears the passing-bell. 







•■ i 



'Then shalt thou see the dew-bedabbled wretch 
Turn, and return, indenting with the way; 
Each envious brier his weary legs doth scratch 
Each shadow makes him stop, each murmur stay . 

For misery is trodden on by many, 

And being low never reliev'd by any. 

' Lie quietly, and hear a little more ; 

Nay, do not struggle, for thou shalt not rise : 710 

To make thee hate the hunting of the boar, 

Unlike myself thou hear'st me moralize, 

Applying this to that, and so to so; 

For love can comment upon every woe. 

'Where did I leave ?' ' No matter where;' quoth he, 
1 Leave me, and then the story aptly ends : 
The night is spent.' ' Why, what of that ?' quoth she. 
' I am,' quoth he, ' expected of my friends; 
And now 't is dark, and going I shall fall.' 
' In night,' quoth she, 'desire sees best of all. 720 

E 



66 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

1 But if thou fall, O, then imagine this, 

The earth, in love with thee, thy footing trips, 

And all is but to rob thee of a kiss. 

Rich preys make true men thieves; so do thy lips 
Make modest Dian cloudy and forlorn, 
Lest she should steal a kiss and die forsworn. 

1 Now of this dark night I perceive the reason : 
Cynthia for shame obscures her silver shine, 
Till forging Nature be condemn'd of treason, 
For stealing moulds from heaven that were divine; 730 
Wherein she fram'd thee in high heaven's despite, 
To shame the sun by day and her by night. 

1 And therefore hath she brib'd the Destinies 
To cross the curious workmanship of nature, 
To mingle beauty with infirmities, 
And pure perfection with impure defeature, 
Making it subject to the tyranny 
Of mad mischances and much misery; 

' As burning fevers, agues pale and faint, 
Life-poisoning pestilence and frenzies wood, 740 

The marrow-eating sickness, whose attaint 
Disorder breeds by heating of the blood : 

Surfeits, imposthumes, grief, and damn'd despair, 
Swear Nature's death for framing thee so fair. 

'And not the least of all these maladies 
But in one minute's fight brings beauty under: 
Both favour, savour, hue, and qualities, 
Whereat the impartial gazer late did wonder, 
Are on the sudden wasted, thaw'd, and done, 
As mountain snow melts with the mid-day sun. 75° 

f ' Therefore, despite of fruitless chastity, 
\ Love-lacking vestals and self-loving nuns, 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 67 

That on the earth would breed a scarcity 
And barren dearth of daughters and of sons, 
Be prodigal; the lamp that burns by night 
Dries up his oil to lend the world his light. 

'What is thy body but a swallowing grave, 

Seeming to bury that posterity 

Which by the rights of time thou needs must have, 

If thou destroy them not in dark obscurity ? 760 

If so, the world will hold thee in disdain, 

Sith in thy pride so fair a hope is slain. 

'So in thyself thyself art made away; 

A mischief worse than civil home-bred strife, 

Or theirs whose desperate hands themselves do slay, 

Or butcher-sire that reaves his son of life. 

Foul-cankering rust the hidden treasure frets, 
(JBut gold that 's put to use more gold begets.' 

1 Nay, then,' quoth Adon, 'you will fall again 
Into your idle over-handled theme : 770 

The kiss I gave you is bestow'd in vain, 
And all in vain you strive against the stream; 
For, by this black-fac'd night, desire's foul nurse, 
Your treatise makes me like you worse and worse. 

' If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues, 
And every tongue more moving than your own, 
Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs, 
Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown; 
For know, my heart stands armed in mine ear, 
And will not let a false sound enter there, 7S0 

1 Lest the deceiving harmony should run 
Into the quiet closure of my breast; 
And then my little heart were quite undone, 
In his bedchamber to be barr'd of rest. 



68 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

No, lady, no; my heart longs not to groan, 
But soundly sleeps, while now it sleeps alone. 

' What have you urg'd that I cannot reprove ? 

The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger: 

I hate not love, but your device in love, 

That lends embracements unto every stranger. 
You do it for increase; O strange excuse, 
When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse ! 

1 Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled, 
Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name; 
Under whose simple semblance he hath fed 
Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame; 

Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves, 

As caterpillars do the tender leaves. 

' Love comforteth like sunshine after rain, 
But Lust's effect is tempest after sun ; soo 

Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, 
Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done; 

Love surfeits not, Lust like a glutton dies; 

Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies. 

'More I could tell, but more I dare not say; 

The text is old, the orator too green. 

Therefore, in sadness, now I will away: 

My face is full of shame, my heart of teen ; 
Mine ears, that to your wanton talk attended, 
Do burn themselves for having so offended.' 810 

With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace 
Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast, 
And homeward through the dark laund runs apace, 
Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd. 
Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky, 
So glides he in the night from Venus' eye; 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



69 






Which after him she darts, as one on shore 
Gazing upon a late-embarked friend, 
Till the wild waves will have him seen no more, 
Whose ridges with the meeting clouds contend: 820 

So did the merciless and pitchy night 
Fold in the object that did feed her sight. 

Whereat amaz'd, as one that unaware 
Hath dropp'd a precious jewel in the flood, 
Or 'stonish'd as night-wanderers often are, 
Their light blown out in some mistrustful wood, 
Even so confounded in the dark she lay, 
Having lost the fair discovery of her way. 

And now she beats her heart, whereat it groans, 

That all the neighbour caves, as seeming troubled, 830 

Make verbal repetition of her moans; 

Passion on passion deeply is redoubled : 

' Ay me !' she cries, and twenty times ' Woe, woe !' 
And twenty echoes twenty times cry so. 

She marking them begins a wailing note 

And sings extemporally a woeful ditty: 

How love makes young men thrall and old men dote; 

How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty. 
Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, 
And still the choir of echoes answer so. 8 4 o 

Her song was tedious and outwore the night, 
For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short ; 
If pleas'd themselves, others, they think, delight 
In such-like circumstance, with such-like sport; 
Their copious stories oftentimes begun 
End without audience and are never done. 

For who hath she to spend the night withal 
But idle sounds resembling parasites, 



70 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Like shrill-tongued tapsters answering every call, 
Soothing the humour of fantastic wits ? 850 

She says ' 'T is so :' they answer all ' 'T is so;* 
And would say after her, if she said ' No.' 

Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, 
From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, 
And wakes the morning, from whose silver breast 
The sun ariseth in his majesty; 

Who doth the world so gloriously behold 
That cedar-tops and hills seem burnish'd gold. 



S60 



Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow : 
' O thou clear god, and patron of all light, 
From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow 
The beauteous influence that makes him bright, 
There lives a son that suck'd an earthly mother, 
May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other.' 

This said, she hasteth to a myrtle grove, 
Musing the morning is so much o'erworn, 
And yet she hears no tidings of her love : 
She hearkens for his hounds and for his horn ; 

Anon she hears them chant it lustily, 

And all in haste she coasteth to the cry. 870 

And as she runs, the bushes in the way 
Some catch her by the neck, some kiss her face, 
Some twine about her thigh to make her stay; 
She wildly breaketh from their strict embrace, 
Like a milch doe, whose swelling dugs do ache, 
Hasting to feed her fawn hid in some brake. 

By this, she hears the hounds are at a bay; 
Whereat she starts, like one that spies an adder 
Wreath'd up in fatal folds just in his way, 8 79 

The fear whereof doth make him shake and shudder : 



VENUS AND ADONIS. ?T 

Even so the timorous yelping of the hounds 
Appals her senses and her spirit confounds. 

For now she knows it is no gentle chase, 

But the blunt boar, rough bear, or lion proud, 

Because the cry remaineth in one place, 

Where fearfully the dogs exclaim aloud ; 
Finding their enemy to be so curst, 
They all strain courtesy who shall cope him first. 

This dismal cry rings sadly in her ear, 
Through which it enters to surprise her heart, 890 

Who, overcome by doubt and bloodless fear, 
With cold-pale weakness numbs each feeling part ; 
Like soldiers, when their captain once doth yield, 
They basely fly and dare not stay the field. 

Thus stands she in a trembling ecstasy, 

Till, cheering up her senses all dismay'd, 

She tells them 't is a causeless fantasy, 

And childish error, that they are afraid; 

Bids them leave quaking, bids them fear no more : — 
And with that word she spied the hunted boar, 900 

Whose frothy mouth, bepainted all with red, 
Like milk and blood being mingled both together, 
A second fear through all her sinews spread, 
Which madly hurries her she knows not whither: 
This way she runs, and now she will no further, 
But back retires to rate the boar for murther. 

A thousand spleens bear her a thousand ways; 

She treads the path that she untreads again ; 

Her more than haste is mated with delays, 

Like the proceedings of a drunken brain, 910 

Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting, 
In hand with all things, nought at all effecting. 



72 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Here kennelPd in a brake she finds a hound, 

And asks the weary caitiff for his master, 

And there another licking of his wound, 

'Gainst venom'd sores the only sovereign plaster; 
And here she meets another sadly scowling, 
To whom she speaks, and he replies with howling. 

When he hath ceas'd his ill-resounding noise, 

Another flap-mouth'd mourner, black and grim, 930 

Against the welkin volleys out his voice; 

Another and another answer him, 

Clapping their proud tails to the ground below, 
Shaking their scratch'd ears, bleeding as they go. 

Look, how the world's poor people are amaz'd 

At apparitions, signs, and prodigies, 

Whereon with fearful eyes they long have gaz'd, 

Infusing them with dreadful prophecies; 

So she at these sad signs draws up her breath, 

And, sighing it again, exclaims on Death. 930 

' Hard-favour'd tyrant, ugly, meagre, lean, 
Hateful divorce of love,' — thus chides she Death, — 
1 Grim-grinning ghost, earth's worm, what dost thou mean 
To stifle beauty and to steal his breath, 

Who when he liv'd, his breath and beauty set 

Gloss on the rose, smell to the violet ? 

' If he be dead, — O no, it cannot be, 

Seeing his beauty, thou shouldst strike at it : — 

O yes, it may; thou hast no eyes to see, 

But hatefully at random dost thou hit. 940 

Thy mark is feeble age, but thy false dart 
Mistakes that aim and cleaves an infant's heart. 

' Hadst thou but bid beware, then he had spoke, 
And, hearing him, thy power had lost his power. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. -- 

The Destinies will curse thee for this stroke ; 

They bid thee crop a weed, thou pluck'st a flower : 
Love's golden arrow at him should have fled, 
And not Death's ebon dart, to strike him dead. 

1 Dost thou drink tears, that thou provok'st such weeping? 

What may a heavy groan advantage thee ? 95 o 

Why hast thou cast into eternal sleeping 

Those eyes that taught all other eyes to see ? 
Now Nature cares not for thy mortal vigour, 
Since her best work is ruin'd with thy rigour/ 

Here overcome, as one full of despair, 
She vail'd her eyelids, who, like sluices, stopt 
The crystal tide that from her two cheeks fair 
In the sweet channel of her bosom dropt ; 

But through the flood-gates breaks the silver rain, 
And with his strong course opens them again. 960 

O, how her eyes and tears did lend and borrow ! 

Her eyes seen in the tears, tears in her eye ; 

Both crystals, where they view'd each other's sorrow, 

Sorrow that friendly sighs sought still to dry; 
But like a stormy day, now wind, now rain, 
Sighs dry her cheeks, tears make them wet again. 

Variable passions throng her constant woe, 

As striving who should best become her grief; 

All entertain'd, each passion labours so, 

That every present sorrow seemeth chief, 97 o 

But none is best : then join they all together, 
Like many clouds consulting for foul weather.) 

By this, far off she hears some huntsman hollo ; 
A nurse's song ne'er pleas'd her babe so well : 
The dire imagination she did follow 
This sound of hope doth labour to expel ; 



74 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

For now reviving joy bids her rejoice, 
And flatters her it is Adonis' voice. 

Whereat her tears began to turn their tide, 
Being prison'd in her eye like pearls in glass ; 980 

Yet sometimes falls an orient drop beside, 
Which her cheek melts, as scorning it should pass, 
To wash the foul face of the sluttish ground, 
Who is but drunken when she seemeth drown'd. 

hard-believing love, how strange it seems 
Not to believe, and yet too credulous ! 

Thy weal and woe are both of them extremes ; 

Despair and hope makes thee ridiculous : 

The one doth flatter thee in thoughts unlikely, 

In likely thoughts the other kills thee quickly. 990 

Now she unweaves the web that she hath wrought ; 

Adonis lives, and Death is not to blame ; 

It was not she that calPd him all to naught : 

Now she adds honours to his hateful name ; 

She clepes him king of graves and grave for kings, 
Imperious supreme of all mortal things. 

' No, no,' quoth she, ' sweet Death, I did but jest ; 
Yet pardon me I felt a kind of fear 
Whenas I met the boar, that bloody beast, 
Which knows no pity, but is still severe ; woo 

Then, gentle shadow, — truth I must confess,— 
I rail'd on thee, fearing my love's decease. 

' T is not my fault ; the boar provok'd my tongue : 

Be wreak'd on him, invisible commander; 

'T is he, foul creature, that hath done thee wrong ; 

1 did but act, he 's author of thy slander: 
Grief hath two tongues, and never woman yet 
Could rule them both without ten women's wit/ 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 75 

Thus hoping that Adonis is alive, 

Her rash suspect she doth extenuate ; 1010 

And that his beauty may the better thrive, 

With Death she humbly doth insinuate ; 

Tells him of trophies, statues, tombs, and stories 
His victories, his triumphs, and his glories. 

'O Jove,' quoth she, 'how much a fool was I 

To be of such a weak and silly mind 

To wail his death who lives and must not die 

Till mutual overthrow of mortal kind! 

For he being dead, with him is beauty slain, 

And, beauty dead, black chaos comes again. 1020 

* Fie, fie, fond love, thou art so full of fear 
As one with treasure laden, hemm'd with thieves ; 
Trifles, unwitnessed with eye or ear, 
Thy coward heart with false bethinking grieves.' 
Even at this word she hears a merry horn, 
Whereat she leaps that was but late forlorn. 

As falcon to the lure, away she flies — 

The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light — 

And in her haste unfortunately spies 

The foul boar's conquest on her fair delight ; ro 3 o 

Which seen, her eyes, as murther'd with the view, 
Like stars asham'd of day, themselves withdrew; 

Or, as the snail, whose tender horns being hit, 
Shrinks backward in his shelly cave with pain, 
And there, all smother'd up, in shade doth sit, 
Long after fearing to creep forth again ; 

So, at his bloody view, her eyes are fled 

Into the deep-dark cabins of her head, 

Where they resign their office and their light 

To the disposing of her troubled brain ; 1040 



76 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Who bids them still consort with ugly night, 
And never wound the heart with looks again ; 
Who, like a king perplexed in his throne, 
By their suggestion gives a deadly groan, 

Whereat each tributary subject quakes ; 
As when the wind, imprison'd in the ground, 
Struggling for passage, earth's foundation shakes, 
Which with cold terror doth men's minds confound. 
This mutiny each part doth so surprise 
That from their dark beds once more leap her eyes, 

And, being open'd, threw unwilling light 1051 

Upon the wide wound that the boar had trench'd 
In his soft flank, whose wonted lily white 
With purple tears that his wound wept was drench'd ; 
No flower was nigh, no grass, herb, leaf, or weed, 
But stole his blood and seem'd with him to bleed. 

This solemn sympathy poor Venus noteth; 

Over one shoulder doth she hang her head ; 

Dumbly she passions, franticly she doteth ; 

She thinks he could not die, he is not dead : 1060 

Her voice is stopt, her joints forget to bow ; 

Her eyes are mad that they have wept till now. 

Upon his hurt she looks so steadfastly, 

That her sight dazzling makes the wound seem three ; 

And then she reprehends her mangling eye, 

That makes more gashes where no breach should be : 

His face seems twain, each several limb is doubled ; 

For oft the eye mistakes, the brain being troubled. 

' My tongue cannot express my grief for one, 

And yet,' quoth she, ' behold two Adons dead ! 1070 

My sighs are blown away, my salt tears gone, 

Mine eyes are turn'd to fire, my heart to lead : 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 77 

Heavy heart's lead, melt at mine eyes' red fire ! 
So shall I die by drops of hot desire. 

1 Alas, poor world, what treasure hast thou lost ! 
What face remains alive that 's worth the viewing ? 
Whose tongue is music now ? what canst thou boast 
Of things long since, or any thing ensuing ? 

The flowers are sweet, their colours fresh and trim ; 

But true-sweet beauty liv'd and died with him. 1080 

' Bonnet nor veil henceforth no creature wear! 
Nor sun nor wind will ever strive to kiss you : 
Having no fair to lose, you need not fear ■ 
The sun doth scorn you and the wind cloth hiss you : 
But when Adonis liv'd, sun and sharp air 
Lurk'd like two thieves, to rob him of his fair. 

' And therefore would he put his bonnet on, 
Under whose brim the gaudy sun would peep j 
The wind would blow it off and, being gone, 
Play with his locks : then would Acjonis weep ; 1090 

And straight, in pity of his tender years, 
They both would strive who first should dry his tears. 

' To see his face the lion walk'd along 

Behind some hedge, because he would not fear him j 

To recreate himself when he hath sung, 

The tiger would be tame and gently hear him ; 
If he had spoke, the wolf would leave his prey, 
And never fright the silly lamb that day. 

'When he beheld his shadow in the brook, 
The fishes spread on it their golden gills ; "«> 

When he was by, the birds such pleasure took, 
That some would sing, some other in their bills 

Would bring him mulberries and ripe-red cherries ; 

He fed them with his sight, they him with berries. 



78 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

1 But this foul, grim, and urchin-snouted boar, 
Whose downward eye still looketh for a grave, 
Ne'er saw the beauteous livery that he wore ; 
Witness the entertainment that he gave: 
If he did see his face, why then I know 
He thought to kiss him, and hath khTd him so. mo 

1 'T is true, 't is true ; thus was Adonis slain : 
He ran upon the boar with his sharp spear, 
Who did not whet his teeth at him again, 
But by a kiss thought to persuade him there ; 
And nuzzling in his flank, the loving swine 
Sheathed unaware the tusk in his soft groin. 

'Had I been tooth'd like him, I must confess, 

With kissing him I should have kill'd him first ; 

But he is dead, and never did he bless 

My youth with his ; the more am I accurst.' mo 

With this, she falleth in the place she stood, 
And stains her face with his congealed blood. 

She looks upon his lips, and they are pale ; 

She takes him by the hand, and that is cold; 

She whispers in his ears a heavy tale, 

As if they heard the woeful words she told ; 
She lifts the coffer-lids that close his eyes, 
Where, lo, two lamps burnt out in darkness lies ; 

Two glasses, where herself herself beheld 

A thousand times, and now no more reflect ; n 3 o 

Their virtue lost, wherein they late excell'd, 

And every beauty robb'd of his effect : 

' Wonder of time,' quoth she, ' this is my spite, 
That, thou being dead, the day should yet be light. 

' Since thou art dead, lo, here I prophesy : 
Sorrow on love hereafter shall attend ; 



>£?ZjW^ $ W ^O^a^W Q^ yjOA- 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



79 



It shall be waited on with jealousy, 

Find sweet beginning, but unsavoury end ; 

Ne'er settled equally, but high or low, 

That all love's pleasure shall not match his woe. 1140 

1 It shall be fickle, false, and full of fraud, 

Bud and be blasted in a breathing-while ; 

The bottom poison, and the top o'erstraw'd 

With sweets that shall the truest sight beguile : 
The strongest body shall it make most weak, 
Strike the wise dumb, and teach the fool to speak. 

1 It shall be sparing and too full of riot, 
Teaching decrepit age to tread the measures ; 
The staring ruffian shall it keep in quiet, 
Pluck down the rich, enrich the poor with treasures ; 
It shall be raging-mad and silly-mild, n 5 r 

Make the young old, the old become a child. 

1 It shall suspect where is no cause of fear ; 

It shall not fear where it should most mistrust ; 

It shall be merciful and too severe, 

And most deceiving when it seems most just'; 
Perverse it shall be where it shows most toward, 
Put fear to valour, courage to the coward. 

1 It shall be cause of war and dire events, 

And set dissension 'twixt the son and sire ; 1160 

Subject and servile to all discontents, 

As dry combustious matter is to fire : 

Sith in his prime Death cloth my love destroy, 
They that love best their loves shall not enjoy.' 

By this, the boy that by her side lay kill'd 
Was melted like a vapour from her sight, 
And in his blood that on the ground lay spill'd, 
A purple flower sprung up, chequer'd with white, 



8o 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



Resembling well his pale cheeks and the blood n6 9 
Which in round drops upon their whiteness stood. 

She bows her head, the new-sprung flower to smell, 
Comparing it to her Adonis' breath, 
And says, within her bosom it shall dwell, 
Since he himself is reft from her by death ; 
She crops the stalk, and in the breach appears 
Green-dropping sap, which she compares to tears. 

' Poor flower,' quoth she, ' this was thy father's guise — 

Sweet issue of a more sweet-smelling sire — 

For every little grief to wet his eyes : 

To grow unto himself was his desire, „8o 

And so 't is thine ; but know, it is as good 

To wither in my breast as in his blood. 

1 Here was thy father's bed, here in my breast ; 

Thou art the next of blood, and 't is thy right : 

Lo, in this hollow cradle take thy rest, 

My throbbing heart shall rock thee day and night \ 
There shall not be one minute in an hour 
Wherein I will not kiss my sweet love's flower.' 

Thus weary of the world, away she hies, 

And yokes her silver doves, by whose swift aid n go 

Their mistress mounted through the empty skies 

In her light chariot quickly is convey'd ; 

Holding their course to Paphos, where their queen 
Means to immure herself and not be seen. 



j#W*fc 










v#- ( :. - 





>ru-- , 







COAT OF ARMS OF THE EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON. 



TO THE 

RIGHT HONOURABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY, 

EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON AND BARON OF TICHFIELD. 

The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end ; whereof this 
pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant 
I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored 
lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours ; 
what I have to do is yours ; being part in all I have, devoted yours. 
Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater ; meantime, as it 
is, it is bound to your lordship, to whom I wish long life, still lengthened 
with all happiness. Your lordship's in all duty, 

William Shakespeare. 




THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



THE ARGUMENT. 

Lucius Tarquinius, for his excessive pride surnamed Superbus, after 
lie had caused his own father-in-law Servius Tullius to be cruelly mur- 
thered, and, contrary to the Roman laws and customs, not requiring or 
staying for the people's suffrages, had possessed himself of the kingdom, 
went, accompanied with his sons and other noblemen of Rome, to besiege 
Ardea. During which siege the principal men of the army meeting one 
evening at the tent of Sextus Tarquinius, the king's son, in their dis- 
courses after supper every one commended the virtues of his own wife ; 
among whom Collatinus extolled the incomparable chastity of his wife 
Lucretia. In that pleasant humour they all posted to Rome ; and intend- 
ing, by their secret and sudden arrival, to make trial of that which every 
one had before avouched, only Collatinus finds his wife, though it were 



8 4 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 



late in the night, spinning amongst her maids : the other ladies were all 
found dancing and revelling, or in several disports. "Whereupon the no- 
blemen yielded Collatinus the victory, and his wife the fame. At that 
time Sextus Tarquinius, being inflamed with Lucrece' beauty, yet smoth- 
ering his passions for the present, departed with the rest back to the 
camp ; from whence he shortly after privily withdrew himself, and was, 
according to his estate, royally entertained and lodged by Lucrece at 
Collatium. The same night he treacherously stealeth into her chamber, 
violently ravished her, and early in the morning speedeth away. Lucrece, 
in this lamentable plight, hastily dispatcheth messengers, one to Rome for 
her father, another to the camp for Collatine. They came, the one ac- 
companied with Junius Brutus, the other with Publius Valerius, and 
finding Lucrece attired in mourning habit, demanded the cause of her 
sorrow. She, first taking an oath of them for her revenge, revealed the 
actor and whole manner of his dealing, and withal suddenly stabbed 
herself. Which done, with one consent they all vowed to root out the 
whole hated family of the Tarquins ; and bearing the dead body to Rome, 
Brutus acquainted the people with the doer and manner of the vile deed, 
with a bitter invective against the tyranny of the king : wherewith the 
people were so moved, that with one consent and a general acclamation 
the Tarquins were all exiled, and the state government changed from 
kings to consuls. 



From the besieged Ardea all in post, 
Borne by the trustless wings of false desire, 
Lust-breathed Tarquin leaves the Roman host, 
And to Collatium bears the lightless fire 
Which, in pale embers hid, lurks to aspire 
And girdle with embracing flames the waist 
Of Collatine's fair love, Lucrece the chaste. 

Haply that name of ' chaste ' unhappily set 
This bateless edge on his keen appetite ; 
When Collatine unwisely did not let 
To praise the clear unmatched red and white 
Which triumph'd in that sky of his delight, 

Where mortal stars, as bright as heaven's beauties, 
With pure aspects did him peculiar duties. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 85 

For he the night before, in Tarquin's tent, 
Unlock'd the treasure of his happy state ; 
What priceless wealth the heavens had him lent 
In the possession of his beauteous mate ; 
Reckoning his fortune at such high-proud rate, 

That kings might be espoused to more fame, 20 

But king nor peer to such a peerless dame. 

O happiness enjoy'd but of a few! 

And, if possess'd, as soon decay'd and done 

As is the morning's silver-melting dew 

Against the golden splendour of the sun ! 

An expir'd date, cancell'd ere well begun : 
Honour and beauty, in the owner's arms, 
Are weakly fortress'd from a world of harms. 

Beauty itself doth of itself persuade 

The eyes of men without an orator ; 30 

What needeth then apologies be made, 

To set forth that which is so singular? 

Or why is Collatine the publisher 

Of that rich jewel he should keep unknown 
From thievish ears, because it is his own ? 

Perchance his boast of Lucrece' sovereignty 
Suggested this proud issue of a king, 
£^For by our ears our hearts oft tainted be ; 
Perchance that envy of so rich a thing, 
Braving compare, disdainfully did sting 40 

His high-pitch'd thoughts, that meaner men should 

vaunt 
That golden hap which their superiors want. 

But some untimely thought did instigate 
His all-too-timeless speed, if none of those ; 
His honour, his affairs, his friends, his state, 



86 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Neglected all, with swift intent he goes 
To quench the coal which in his liver glows. 
O rash false heat, wrapp'd in repentant cold, 
Thy hasty spring still blasts, and ne'er grows old ! 

When at Collatium this false lord arriv'd, 50 

Well was he welcom'd by the Roman dame, 
Within whose face beauty and virtue striv'd 
Which of them both should underprop her fame : 
When virtue bragg'd, beauty would blush for shame ; 
When beauty boasted blushes, in despite 
Virtue would stain that o'er with silver white. 

But beauty, in that white intituled, 
From Venus' doves doth challenge that fair field : 
Then virtue claims from beauty beauty's red, 
Which virtue gave the golden age to gild 60 

Their silver cheeks, and call'd it then their shield; 
Teaching them thus to use it in the fight, — 
When shame assail'd, the red should fence the white. 

This heraldry in Lucrece' face was seen, 
Argued by beauty's red and virtue's white : 
Of either's colour was the other queen, 
Proving from world's minority their right ; 
Yet their ambition makes them still to fight, 
The sovereignty of either being so great, 
That oft they interchange each other's seat. 70 

This silent war of lilies and of roses, 
Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field, 
In their pure ranks his traitor eye encloses ; 
Where, lest between them both it should be kill'd, 
The coward captive vanquished doth yield 

To those two armies that would let him go, 

Rather than triumph in so false a foe. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 87 

Now thinks he that her husband's shallow tongue, — 
The niggard prodigal that prais'd her so, — 
In that high task hath done her beauty wrong, 80 

Which far exceeds his barren skill to show ■ 
Therefore that praise which Collatine doth owe 

Enchanted Tarquin answers with surmise, 

In silent wonder of still-gazing eyes. 

This earthly saint, adored by this devil, 

Little suspecteth the false worshipper ; 
_For unstain'd thoughts do seldom dream on evil ; 

Birds never lim'd no secret bushes fear: 

So guiltless she securely gives good cheer 

And reverend welcome to her princely guest, 90 

Whose inward ill no outward harm express'd : 

For that he colour'd with his high estate, 

Hiding base sin in plaits of majesty; 

That nothing in him seem'd inordinate, 

Save sometime too much wonder of his eye, 

Which, having all, all could not satisfy ; 
But, poorly rich, so wanteth in his store, 
That, cloy'd with much, he pineth still for more. 

But she, that never cop'd with stranger eyes, 
Could pick no meaning from their parling looks, 100 
Nor read the subtle-shining secrecies 
Writ in the glassy margents of such books : 
She touch'd no unknown baits, nor fear'd no hooks ; 
Nor could she moralize his wanton sight, 
More than his eyes were open'd to the light. 

He stories to her ears her husband's fame, 

Won in the fields of fruitful Italy, 

And decks with praises Collatine's high name, 



88 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Made glorious by his manly chivalry 

With bruised arms and wreaths of victory; 130 

Her joy with heav'd-up hand she doth express, 
And, wordless, so greets heaven for his success. 

Far from the purpose of his coming hither, 
He makes excuses for his being there : 
No cloudy show of stormy blustering weather 
Doth yet in his fair welkin once appear ; 
Till sable Night, mother of dread and fear, 
Upon the world dim darkness doth display, 
And in her vaulty prison stows the day. 

For then is Tarquin brought unto his bed, 120 

Intending weariness with heavy spright; 

For, after supper, long he questioned 

With modest Lucrece, and wore out the night: 

Now leaden slumber with life's strength doth fight,"^^ 

And every one to rest themselves betake, 
\Save thieves, and cares, and troubled minds, that wake. 

As one of which doth Tarquin lie revolving 

The sundry dangers of his will's obtaining, 

Yet ever to obtain his will resolving, 

Though weak-built hopes persuade him to abstaining; 

Despair to gain doth traffic oft for gaining, 131 

And when great treasure is the meed propos'd, 
Though death be adjunct, there 's no death suppos'd. 

Those that much covet are with gain so fond, 
For what they have not, that which they possess 
They scatter and unloose it from their bond, 
And so, by hoping more, they have but less ; 
Or, gaining more, the profit of excess 
Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain, 
That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain, mo 



{ 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 89 

The aim of all is but to nurse the life 
With honour, wealth, and ease, in waning age ; 
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife, 
That one for all or all for one we gage, 
As life for honour in fell battle's rage, 

Honour for wealth • and oft that wealth doth cost 

The death of all, and all together lost. 

So that in venturing ill we leave to be 

The things we are for that which we expect ; 

And this ambitious foul infirmity, 150 

In having much, torments us with defect 

Of that we have : so then we do neglect 

The thing we have ; and, all for want of wit, 
Make something nothing by augmenting it. 

Such hazard now must doting Tarquin make, 

Pawning his honour to obtain his lust, 

And for himself himself he must forsake ; 

Then where is truth, if there be no self-trust ? 

When shall he think to find a stranger just, 

When he himself himself confounds, betrays 160 

To slanderous tongues and wretched hateful days ? 

Now stole upon the time the dead of night, 
When heavy sleep had clos'd up mortal eyes : 
No comfortable star did lend his light, 
No noise but owls' and wolves' death-boding cries ; 
Now serves the season that they may surprise 

The silly lambs : pure thoughts are dead and still, 
While lust and murther wakes to stain and kill. 

And now this lustful lord leap'd from his bed, 
Throwing his mantle rudely o'er his arm; 170 

Is madly toss'd between desire and dread : 
Th' one sweetly flatters, th' other feareth harm ; 
But honest fear, bewitch'd with lust's foul charm, 



9° 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Doth too too oft betake him to retire, 
Beaten away by brain-sick rude desire. 

His falchion on a flint he softly smiteth, 

That from the cold stone sparks of fire do fly ; 

Whereat a waxen torch forthwith he lighteth, 

Which must be lode-star to his lustful eye, 

And to the flame thus speaks advisedly, i& 

' As from this cold flint I enforc'd this fire, 

So Lucrece must I force to my desire.' 

Here pale with fear he doth premeditate 

The dangers of his loathsome enterprise, 

And in his inward mind he doth debate 

What following sorrow may on this arise; 

Then looking scornfully, he doth despise 
His naked armour of still-slaughter'd lust, 
And justly thus controls his thoughts unjust: 

' Fair torch, burn out thy light, and lend it not igc 

To darken her whose light excelleth thine ; 
And die, unhallow'd thoughts, before you blot 
With your uncleanness that which is divine; 
Offer pure incense to so pure a ^shrine : 

Let fair humanity abhor the deed 

That spots and stains love's modest snow-white weed. 

' O shame to knighthood and to shining arms! 

O foul dishonour to my household's grave ! 

O impious act, including all foul harms ! 

A martial man to be soft fancy's slave ! 20c 

True valour still a true respect should have ; 

Then my digression is so vile, so base, 

That it will live engraven in my face. 

' Yea, though I die, the scandal will survive, 
And be an eye-sore in my golden coat ; 
Some loathsome dash the herald will contrive, 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 91 

To cipher me how fondly I did dote ; 

That my posterity, sham'd with the note, 
Shall curse my bones, and hold it for no sin 
To wish that I their father had not been. 210 

1 What win I, if I gain the thing I seek ? 

A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. 

Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week, 

Or sells eternity to get a toy ? 

For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy? 
Or what fond beggar, but to touch the crown, 
Would with the sceptre straight be strucken down ? 

'If Collatinus dream of my intent, 
Will he not wake, and in a desperate rage 
Post hither, this vile purpose to prevent? 220 

This siege that hath engirt his marriage, 
This blur to youth, this sorrow to the sage, 
This dying virtue, this surviving shame, 
Whose crime will bear an ever-during blame? 

'O, what excuse can my invention make, 
When thou shalt charge me with so black a deed? 
Will not my tongue be mute, my frail joints shake, 
Mine eyes forego their light, my false heart bleed ? 
The guilt being great, the fear doth still exceed \ 

And extreme fear can neither fight nor fly, 230 

But coward-like with trembling terror die. 

' Had Collatinus kill'd my son or sire, 

Or lain in ambush to betray my life, 

Or were he not my dear friend, this desire 

Might have excuse to work upon his wife, 

As in revenge or quittal of such strife ; 
But as he is my kinsman, my dear friend, 
The shame and fault finds no excuse nor end. 



9 2 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

' Shameful it is • ay, if the fact be known : 
Hateful it is ; there is no hate in loving : 240 

I '11 beg her love ; but she is not her own : 
The worst is but denial and reproving ; 
My will is strong, past reason's weak removing. 
Who fears a sentence or an old man's saw 
Shall by a painted cloth be kept in awe.' 

Thus, graceless, holds he disputation 
'Tween frozen conscience and hot-burning will, 
And with good thoughts makes dispensation, 
Urging the worser sense for vantage still ; 
Which in a moment doth confound and kill 250 

Ail pure effects, and doth so far proceed, 
That what is vile shows like a virtuous deed. 

Quoth he, ' She took me kindly by the hand, 
And gaz'd for tidings in my eager eyes, 
Fearing some hard news from the warlike band, 
Where her beloved Collatinus lies. 
O, how her fear did make her colour rise ! 

First red as roses that on lawn we lay. 

Then white as lawn, the roses took away. 

' And how her hand, in my hand being lock'd, 260 

Forc'd it to tremble with her loyal fear ! 

Which struck her sad, and then it faster rock'd, 

Until her husband's welfare she did hear; 

Whereat she smiled with so sweet a cheer, 
That had Narcissus seen her as she stood, 
Self-love had never drown'd him in the flood. 

'W 7 hy hunt I then for colour or excuses? 

All orators are dumb when beauty pleadeth ; 

Poor wretches have remorse in poor abuses ; 269 

Love thrives not in the heart that shadows dreadeth ; 

Affection is my captain, and he leadeth ; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 93 

And when his gaudy banner is display'd, 
The coward fights and will not be dismay'd. 

1 Then, childish fear avaunt ! debating die ! 
Respect and reason wait on wrinkled age ! 
My heart shall never countermand mine eye : 
Sad pause and deep regard beseems the sage ; 
My part is youth, and beats these from the stage : 

Desire my pilot is, beauty my prize ; 

Then who fears sinking where such treasure lies ?' 280 

As corn o'ergrown by weeds, so heedful fear 

Is almost chok'd by unresisted lust. 

Away he steals with open listening ear, 

Full of foul hope and full of fond mistrust ; 

Both which, as servitors to the unjust, 

So cross him with their opposite persuasion, 
That now he vows a league, and now invasion. 

Within his thought her heavenly image sits, 

And in the self-same seat sits Collatine : 

That eye which looks on her confounds his wits ; 290 

That eye which him beholds, as more divine, 

Unto a view so false will not incline, 

But with a pure appeal seeks to the heart, 
Which once corrupted takes the worser part ; 

And therein heartens up his servile powers, 
Who, flatter'd by their leader's jocund show, 
Stuff up his lust, as minutes fill up hours ; 
And as their captain, so their pride doth grow, 
Paying more slavish tribute than they owe. 

By reprobate desire thus madly led, 3°° 

The Roman lord marcheth to Lucrece' bed. 
The locks between her chamber and his will, 
Each one by him enforc'd, retires his ward ; 
But, as they open, they all rate his ill, 



94 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Which drives the creeping thief to some regard : 
The threshold grates the door to have him heard ; 

Night-wandering weasels shriek to see him there ; 

They fright him, yet he still pursues his fear. 

As each unwilling portal yields him way, 

Through little vents and crannies of the place 310 

The wind wars with his torch to make him stay, 

And blows the smoke of it into his face, 

Extinguishing his conduct in this case ; 

But his hot heart, which fond desire doth scorch, 
Puffs forth another wind that fires the torch : 

And being lighted, by the light he spies 

Lucretia's glove, wherein her needle sticks : 

He takes it from the rushes where it lies, 

And griping it, the needle his finger pricks ; 

As who should say 'This glove to wanton tricks 320 

Is not inur'd ; return again in haste ; 

Thou see'st our mistress' ornaments are chaste.' 

But all these poor forbiddings could not stay him ; 

He in the worst sense construes their denial : 

The doors, the wind, the glove, that did delay him, 

He takes for accidental things of trial ; 

Or as those bars which stop the hourly dial, 
Who with a lingering stay his course doth let, 
Till every minute pays the hour his debt. 

' So, so,' quoth he, ' these lets attend the time, 330 

Like little frosts that sometime threat the spring, 
To add a more rejoicing to the prime, 
And give the sneaped birds more cause to sing. 
Pain pays the income of each precious thing; 

Huge rocks, high winds, strong pirates, shelves and 
sands, 

The merchant fears, ere rich at home he lands.' 



THE RAPE OE LUCRECE. 95 

Now is he come unto the chamber-door, 
That shuts him from the heaven of his thought, 
Which with a yielding latch, and with no more, 
Hath barr'd him from the blessed thing he sought. 340 
So from himself impiety hath wrought, 
That for his prey to pray he doth begin, 
As if the heavens should countenance his sin. 

But in the midst of his unfruitful prayer, 
Having solicited the eternal power 
That his foul thoughts might compass his fair fair, 
And they would stand auspicious to the hour, 
Even there he starts : quoth he, 'I must deflower; 
The powers to whom I pray abhor this fact, 
How can they then assist me in the act? 350 

' Then Love and Fortune be my gods, my guide ! 

My will is back'd with resolution : 

Thoughts are but dreams till their effects be tried ; 

The blackest sin is clear'd with absolution ; 

Against love's fire fear's frost hath dissolution. 
The eye of heaven is out, and misty night 
Covers the shame that follows sweet delight.' 

This said, his guilty hand pluck'd up the latch, 

And with his knee the door he opens wide. 

The dove sleeps fast that this night-owl will catch ; 360 

Thus treason works ere traitors be espied. 

Who sees the lurking serpent steps aside; 

But she, sound sleeping, fearing no such thing, 

Lies at the mercy of his mortal sting. 

Into the chamber wickedly he stalks, 
And gazeth on her yet unstained bed. 
The curtains being close, about he walks, 
Rolling his greedy eyeballs in his head ; 
By their high treason is his heart misled, 



9 6 



SHA KESPEA RE 'S POEMS. 

Which gives the watchword to his hand full soon 
To draw the cloud that hides the silver moon. 371 

Look, as the fair and fiery-pointed sun, 
Rushing from forth a cloud, bereaves our sight, 
Even so, the curtain drawn, his eyes begun 
To wink, being blinded with a greater light; 
Whether it is that she reflects so bright, 

That dazzleth them, or else some shame suppos'd, 
But blind they are, and keep themselves enclos'd. 

O, had they in that darksome prison died ! 

Then had they seen the period of their ill ; 380 

Then Collatine again, by Lucrece' side, 

In his clear bed might have reposed still; 

But they must ope, this blessed league to kill, 
And holy-thoughted Lucrece to their sight 
Must sell her joy, her life, her world's delight. 

Her lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, 

Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss, 

Who, therefore angry, seems to part in sunder, 

Swelling on either side to want his bliss; 

Between whose hills her head entombed is, 390 

Where, like a virtuous monument, she lies, 
To be admir'd of lewd unhallow'd eyes. 

Without the bed her other fair hand was, 
On the green coverlet, whose perfect white 
Show'd like an April daisy on the grass, 
With pearly sweat, resembling dew of night. 
Her eyes, like marigolds, had sheath'd their light, 

And canopied in darkness sweetly lay, 

Till they might open to adorn the day. 

Her hair, like golden threads, play'd with her breath ; 
O modest wantons ! wanton modesty ! 4°i 

♦Showing life's triumph in the map of death, 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. gy 

And death's dim look in life's mortality; 

Each in her sleep themselves so beautify, 

As if between them twain there were no strife, 
But that life liv'd in death, and death in life. 

Her breasts, like ivory globes circled with blue, 
A pair of maiden worlds unconquered, 
Save of their lord no bearing yoke they knew, 
And him by oath they truly honoured. 410 

These worlds in Tarquin new ambition bred, 
Who, like a foul usurper, went about 
From this fair throne to heave the owner out. 

What could he see but mightily he noted? 
What did he note but strongly he desir'd ? 
What he beheld, on that he firmly doted, 
And in his will his wilful eye he tir'd. 
With more than admiration he admir'd 

Her azure veins, her alabaster skin, 

Her coral lips, her snow-white dimpled chin. 420 

As the grim lion fawneth o'er his prey, 

Sharp hunger by the conquest satisfied, 

So o'er this sleeping soul doth Tarquin stay, 

His rage of lust by gazing qualified; 

Slack'd, not suppress'd, for standing by her side, 
His eye, which late this mutiny restrains, 
Unto a greater uproar tempts his veins : 

And they, like straggling slaves for pillage fighting, 
Obdurate vassals fell exploits effecting, 
In bloody death and ravishment delighting, 430 

Nor children's tears nor mothers' groans respecting, 
Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting; 
Anon his beating heart, alarum striking, 
Gives the hot charge and bids them do their liking. 
G 



9 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

His drumming heart cheers up his burning eye, 
His eye commends the leading to his hand; 
His hand, as proud of such a dignity, 
Smoking with pride, march'd on to make his stand 
On her bare breast, the heart of all her land, 

Whose ranks of blue veins, as his hand did scale, 440 
Left their round turrets destitute and pale. 

They, mustering to the quiet cabinet 
Where their dear governess and lady lies, 
Do tell her she is dreadfully beset, 
And fright her with confusion of their cries ; 
She, much amaz'd, breaks ope her lock'd-up eyes, 
Who, peeping forth this tumult to behold, 
Are by his flaming torch dimm'd and controll'd. 

Imagine her as one in dead of night 
From forth dull sleep by dreadful fancy waking, 45° 

That thinks she hath beheld some ghastly sprite, 
Whose grim aspect sets every joint a-shaking; 
What terror 't is ! but she, in worser taking, 
From sleep disturbed, needfully doth view 
The sight which makes supposed terror true. 

Wrapp'd and confounded in a thousand fears, 

Like to a new-kill'd bird she trembling lies; 

She dares not look; yet, winking, there appears 

Quick-shifting antics, ugly in her eyes : 

Such shadows are the weak brain's forgeries, 460 

Who, angry that the eyes fly from their lights, 
In darkness daunts them with more dreadful sights. 

His hand, that yet remains upon her breast,— 
Rude ram, to batter such an ivory wall ! — 
May feel her heart — poor citizen !— distress'd, 
Wounding itself to death, rise up and fall, 
Beating her bulk, that his hand shakes withal. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 99 

This moves in him more rage and lesser pity, 
To make the breach and enter this sweet city. 

First, like a trumpet, doth his tongue begin 470 

To sound a parley to his heartless foe, 

Who o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin, 

The reason of this rash alarm to know, 

Which he by dumb demeanour seeks to show ; 

But she with vehement prayers urgeth still 

Under what colour he commits this ill. 

Thus he replies : ' The colour in thy face, 

That even for anger makes the lily pale, 

And the red rose blush at her own disgrace, 

Shall plead for me and tell my loving tale; 4 8o 

Under that colour am I come to scale 

Thy never-conquer'd fort : the fault is thine, 
For those thine eyes betray thee unto mine. 

' Thus I forestall thee, if thou mean to chide : 
Thy beauty hath ensnar'd thee to this night, 
Where thou with patience must my will abide ; 
My will that marks thee for my earth's delight, 
W 7 hich I to conquer sought with all my might, 

But as reproof and reason beat it dead, 

By thy bright beauty was it newly bred. 490 

1 1 see what crosses my attempt will bring ; 

I know what thorns the growing rose defends ; 

I think the honey guarded with a sting ; 

All this beforehand counsel comprehends : 

But will is deaf and hears no heedful friends ; 
Only he hath an eye to gaze on beauty, 
And dotes on what he looks, 'gainst law or duty. 

' I have debated, even in my soul, 
What wrong, what shame, what sorrow I shall breed ; 
But nothing can affection's course control, 500 

LofC. 



IOO SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Or stop the headlong fury of his speed. 
I know repentant tears ensue the deed, 

Reproach, disdain, and deadly enmity; 

Yet strive I to embrace mine infamy.' 

This said, he shakes aloft his Roman blade, 
Which, like a falcon towering in the skies, 
Coucheth the fowl below with his wings' shade, 
Whose crooked beak threats if he mount he dies ; 
So under his insulting falchion lies 

Harmless Lucretia, marking what he tells 510 

With trembling fear, as fowl hear falcon's bells. 

'Lucrece,' quoth he, ' this night I must enjoy thee; 
If thou deny, then force must work my way, 
For in thy bed I purpose to destroy thee : 
That done, some worthless slave of thine I '11 slay, 
To kill thine honour with thy life's decay ; 

And in thy dead arms do I mean to place him, 
Swearing I slew him, seeing thee embrace him. 

1 So thy surviving husband shall remain 

The scornful mark of every open eye ; 520 

Thy kinsmen hang their heads at this disdain, 

Thy issue blurr'd with nameless bastardy : 

And thou, the author of their obloquy, 

Shalt have thy trespass cited up in rhymes, 
And sung by children in succeeding times. 

'But if thou yield, I rest thy secret friend: 

The fault unknown is as a thought unacted ; 

A little harm done to a great good end 

For lawful policy remains enacted. 

The poisonous simple sometimes is compacted 53c 

In a pure compound; being so applied, 

His venom in effect is purified. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. ioi 

'Then, for thy husband and thy children's sake, 
Tender my suit: bequeath not to their lot 
The shame that from them no device can take, 
The blemish that will never be forgot, 
Worse than a slavish wipe or birth-hour's blot; 
For marks descried in men's nativity 
Are nature's faults, not their own infamy.' 

Here with a cockatrice' dead-killing eye 540 

He rouseth up himself and makes a pause ; 

While she, the picture of pure piety, 

Like a white hind under the gripe's sharp claws, 

Pleads, in a wilderness where are no laws, 

To the rough beast that knows no gentle right, 

Nor aught obeys but his foul appetite. 

But when a black-fac'd cloud the world doth threat, 
In his dim mist the aspiring mountains hiding, 
From earth's dark womb some gentle gust doth get, 
Which blows these pitchy vapours from their biding, 
Hindering their present fall by this dividing ; 551 

So his unhallow'd haste her words delays, 
And moody Pluto winks while Orpheus plays. 

Yet, foul night-waking cat, he doth but dally, 
While in his hold-fast foot the weak mouse panteth : 
Her sad behaviour feeds his vulture folly, 
A swallowing gulf that even in plenty wanteth; 
His ear her prayers admits, but his heart granteth 
No penetrable entrance to her plaining : 
Tears harden lust, though marble wear with raining. 

Her pity-pleading eyes are sadly fix'd 561 

In the remorseless wrinkles of his face ; 
Her modest eloquence with sighs is mix'd, 
Which to her oratory adds more grace. 
She puts the period often from his place, 



102 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

And midst the sentence so her accent breaks, 
That twice she doth begin ere once she speaks. 

She conjures him by high almighty Jove, 
By knighthood, gentry, and sweet friendship's oath, 
By her untimely tears, her husband's love, 57 o 

By holy human law, and common troth, 
By heaven and earth, and all the power of both, 
That to his borrow'd bed he make retire, 
And stoop to honour, not to foul desire. 

Quoth she, ' Reward not hospitality 
With such black payment as thou hast pretended ; 
Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee ; 
Mar not the thing that cannot be amended ; 
End thy ill aim before thy shoot be ended ; 

He is no woodman that doth bend his bow 580 

To strike a poor unseasonable doe. 

' My husband is thy friend ; for his sake spare me : 
Thyself art mighty ; for thine own sake leave me : 
Myself a weakling ; do not then ensnare me : 
Thou look'st not like deceit ; do not deceive me. 
My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee : 
If ever man were mov'd with woman's moans, 
Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans ; 

'All which together, like a troubled ocean, 

Beat at thy rocky and wrack-threatening heart, 590 

To soften it with their continual motion, 

For stones dissolv'd to water do convert. 

O, if no harder than a stone thou art, 

Melt at my tears, and be compassionate ! 

Soft pity enters at an iron gate. 

* In Tarquin's likeness I did entertain thee ; 
Hast thou put on his shape to do him shame ? 
To all the host of heaven I complain me, 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 103 

Thou wrong'st his honour, wound'st his princely name. 
Thou art not what thou seem'st ; and if the same, 600 

Thou seem'st not what thou art, a god, a king ; 

For kings like gods should govern every thing. 

' How will thy shame be seeded in thine age, 
When thus thy vices bud before thy spring ! 
If in thy hope thou dar'st do such outrage, 
What dar'st thou not when once thou art a king? 
O, be remember'd, no outrageous thing 

From vassal actors can be wip'd away ; 

Then kings' misdeeds cannot be hid in clay. 

'This deed will make thee only lov'd for fear, 610 

But happy monarchs still are fear'd for love; 
With foul offenders thou perforce must bear, 
When they in thee the like offences prove : 
If but for fear of this, thy will remove ; 

For princes are the glass, the school, the book, 
W T here subjects' eyes do learn, do read, do look. 

' And wilt thou be the school where Lust shall learn ? 

Must he in thee read lectures of such shame ? 

Wilt thou be glass wherein it shall discern 

Authority for sin, warrant for blame, 620 

To privilege dishonour in thy name ? 

Thou back'st reproach against long-living laud, 
And mak'st fair reputation but a bawd. 

1 Hast thou command ? by him that gave it thee, 
From a pure heart command thy rebel will; 
Draw not thy sword to guard iniquity, 
For it was lent thee all that brood to kill. 
Thy princely office how canst thou fulfil, 

When, pattern'd by thy fault, foul sin may say, 

He learn'd to sin, and thou didst teach the way? 630 



io4 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

' Think but how vile a spectacle it were, 

To view thy present trespass in another. 

Men's faults do seldom to themselves appear ; 

Their own transgressions partially they smother : 

This guilt would seem death-worthy in thy brother. 
O, how are they wrapp'd in with infamies 
That from their own misdeeds askance their eyes ! 

'To thee, to thee, my heav'd-up hands appeal, 

Not to seducing lust, thy rash relier : 

I sue for exil'd majesty's repeal ; 640 

Let him return, and flattering thoughts retire: 

His true respect will prison false desire, 

And wipe the dim mist from thy doting eyne, 
That thou shalt see thy state and pity mine.' 

'Have done,' quoth he; 'my uncontrolled tide 

Turns not, but swells the higher by this let. 

Small lights are soon blown out, huge fires abide, 

And with the wind in greater fury fret ; 

The petty streams that pay a daily debt 

To their salt sovereign, with their fresh falls' haste 
Add to his flow, but alter not his taste.' 651 

'Thou art,' quoth she, 'a sea, a sovereign king ; 
And lo, there falls into thy boundless flood 
Black lust, dishonour, shame, misgoverning, 
Who seek to stain the ocean of thy blood. 
If all these petty ills shall change thy good, 
Thy sea within a puddle's womb is hears'd, 
And not the puddle in thy sea dispers'd. 

' So shall these slaves be king, and thou their slave ; 
Thou nobly base, they basely dignified ; 660 

Thou their fair life, and they thy fouler grave; 
Thou loathed in their shame, they in thy pride : 
The lesser thing should not the greater hide ; 



THE RAPE OE LUCRECE. 105 

The cedar stoops not to the base shrub's foot, 
But low shrubs wither at the cedar's root. 

' So let thy thoughts, low vassals to thy state ' — 
'No more,' quoth he ; 'by heaven, I will not hear thee : 
Yield to my love ; if not, enforced hate, 
Instead of love's coy touch, shall rudely tear thee ; 
That done, despitefully I mean to bear thee 670 

Unto the base bed of some rascal groom, 
To be thy partner in this shameful doom.' 

This said, he sets his foot upon the light, 

For light and lust are deadly enemies; 

Shame folded up in blind concealing night, 

When most unseen, then most doth tyrannize. 

The wolf hath seiz'd his prey, the poor lamb cries ; 
Till with her own white fleece her voice controll'd 
Entombs her outcry in her lips' sweet fold : 

For with the nightly linen that she wears 680 

He pens her piteous clamours in her head, 

Cooling his hot face in the chastest tears 

That ever modest eyes with sorrow shed. 

O, that prone lust should stain so pure a bed ! 
The spots whereof could weeping purify, 
Her tears should drop on them perpetually. 

But she hath lost a dearer thing than life, 
And he hath won what he would lose again : 
This forced league doth force a further strife; 
This momentary joy breeds months of pain; 690 

This hot desire converts to cold disdain; 
Pure Chastity is rifled of her store, 
And Lust, the thief, far poorer than before. 

Look, as the full-fed hound or gorged hawk, 
Unapt for tender smell or speedy flight, 
Make slow pursuit, or altogether balk 



io 6 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

The prey wherein by nature they delight, 
So surfeit-taking Tarquin fares this night ; 
His taste delicious, in digestion souring, 
Devours his will, that liv'd by foul devouring. 700 

O, deeper sin than bottomless conceit 

Can comprehend in still imagination ! 

Drunken Desire must vomit his receipt, 

Ere he can see his own abomination. 

While Lust is in his pride, no exclamation 
Can curb his heat or rein his rash desire, 
Till like a jade Self-will himself doth tire. 

And then with lank and lean discolour'd cheek, 
With heavy eye, knit brow, and strengthless pace, 
Feeble Desire, all recreant, poor, and meek, 710 

Like to a bankrupt beggar wails his case : 
The flesh being proud, Desire doth fight with Grace, 

For there it revels ; and when that decays, 

The guilty rebel for remission prays. 

So fares it with this faultful lord of Rome, 

Who this accomplishment so hotly chas'd ; 

For now against himself he sounds this doom, 

That through the length of times he stands disgrac'd : 

Besides, his soul's fair temple is defac'd ; 

To whose weak ruins muster troops of cares, 720 

To ask the spotted princess how she fares. 

She says, her subjects with foul insurrection 
Have batter'd down her consecrated wall, 
And by their mortal fault brought in subjection 
Her immortality, and made her thrall 
To living death and pain perpetual; 

Which in her prescience she controlled still, 
But her foresight could not forestall their will. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. IO >j 

Even in this thought through the dark night he stealeth, 
A captive victor that hath lost in gain ; 73 o 

Bearing away the wound that nothing healeth, 
The scar that will, despite of cure, remain ; 
Leaving his spoil perplex'd in greater pain. 

She bears the load of lust he left behind, 

And he the burthen of a guilty mind. 

He like a thievish dog creeps sadly thence; 

She like a wearied lamb lies panting there ; 

He scowls and hates himself for his offence; 

She, desperate, with her nails her flesh doth tear; 

He faintly flies, sweating with guilty fear; 74 o 

She stays, exclaiming on the direful night; 

He runs, and chides his vanish'd, loath'd delight. 

He thence departs a heavy convertite ; 

She there remains a hopeless castaway; 

He in his speed looks for the morning light; 

She prays she never may behold the day, 

1 For day,' quoth she, ' night's scapes doth open lay, 

And my true eyes have never practis'd how 

To cloak offences with a cunning brow. 

'They think not but that every eye can see 750 

The same disgrace which they themselves behold ; 

And therefore would they still in darkness be, 

To have their unseen sin remain untold ; 

For they their guilt with weeping will unfold, 
And grave, like water that doth eat in steel, 
Upon my cheeks what helpless shame I feel. 

Here she exclaims against repose and rest, 

And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind ; 

She wakes her heart by beating on her breast, 

And bids it leap from thence, where it may find 760 

Some purer chest to close so pure a mind. 



io 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Frantic with grief thus breathes she forth her spite 
Against the unseen secrecy of night : 

1 comfort-killing Night, image of hell ! 

Dim register and notary of shame ! 

Black stage for tragedies and murthers fell ! 

Vast sin-concealing chaos ! nurse of blame ! 

Blind muffled bawd ! dark harbour for defame ! 
Grim cave of death ! whispering conspirator 
With close-tongued treason and the ravisher! 7JO 

1 hateful, vaporous, and foggy Night ! 
Since thou art guilty of my cureless crime, 
Muster thy mists to meet the eastern light, 
Make war against proportion'd course of time ; 
Or if thou wilt permit the sun to climb 
His wonted height, yet ere he go to bed 
Knit poisonous clouds about his golden head. 

' With rotten damps ravish the morning air ; 

Let their exhal'd unwholesome breaths make sick 

The life of purity, the supreme fair, 780 

Ere he arrive his weary noon-tide prick ; 

And let thy misty vapours march so thick, 
That in their smoky ranks his smother'd light 
May set at noon and make perpetual night. 

' Were Tarquin Night, as he is but Night's child, 
The silver-shining queen he would distain; 
Her twinkling handmaids too, by him denTd, 
Through Night's black bosom should not peep again : 
So should I have co-partners in my pain ; 

And fellowship in woe doth woe assuage, 790 

As palmers' chat makes short their pilgrimage. 

* Where now I have no one to blush with me, 

To cross their arms and hang their heads with mine, 

To mask their brows and hide their infamy; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 109 

But I alone alone must sit and pine, 
Seasoning the earth with showers of silver brine, 
Mingling my talk with tears, my grief with groans, 
Poor wasting monuments of lasting moans. 

' O Night, thou furnace of foul-reeking smoke, 

Let not the jealous Day behold that face 800 

Which underneath thy black all-hiding cloak 

Immodestly lies martyr'd with disgrace ! 

Keep still possession of thy gloomy place, 

That all the faults which in thy reign are made 
May likewise be sepulchred in thy shade ! 

'Make me not object to the tell-tale Day! 

The light will show, character'd in my brow, 

The story of sweet chastity's decay, 

The impious breach of holy wedlock vow; 

Yea, the illiterate, that know not how 810 

To cipher what is writ in learned books, 
Will quote my loathsome trespass in my looks. 

'The nurse, to still her child, will tell my story, 
And fright her crying babe with Tarquin's name ; 
The orator, to deck his oratory, 
Will couple my reproach to Tarquin's shame ; 
Feast-finding minstrels, tuning my defame, 

Will tie the hearers to attend each line, 

How Tarquin wronged me, I Collatine. 

* Let my good name, that senseless reputation, 820 

For Collatine's dear love be kept unspotted; 
If that be made a theme for disputation, 
The branches of another root are ratted, . 
And undeserv'd reproach to him allotted 

That is as clear from this attaint of mine 

As I, ere this, was pure to Collatine. 



Iro SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

'O unseen shame! invisible disgrace! 

O unfelt sore ! crest-wounding, private scar ! 

Reproach is stamp'd in Collatinus' face, 

And Tarquin's eye may read the mot afar, 830 

How he in peace is wounded, not in war. 
Alas, how many bear such shameful blows, 
Which not themselves, but he that gives them knows ! 

* If, Collatine, thine honour lay in me, 
From me by strong assault it is bereft. 
My honey lost, and I, a drone-like bee, 
Have no perfection of my summer left, 

But robb'd and ransack'd by injurious theft; 
In thy weak hive a wandering wasp hath crept, 
And suck'd the honey which thy chaste bee kept. 840 

* Yet am I guilty of thy honour's wrack ; 
Yet for thy honour did I entertain him ; 
Coming from thee, I could not put him back, 
For it had been dishonour to disdain him : 
Besides, of weariness he did complain him, 

And talk'd of virtue; O unlook'd-for evil, 
When virtue is profan'd in such a devil ! 

'Why should the worm intrude the maiden bud? 

Or hateful cuckoos hatch in sparrows' nests? 

Or toads infect fair founts with venom mud ? 850 

Or tyrant folly lurk in gentle breasts ? 

Or kings be breakers of their own behests ? 

But no perfection is so absolute, 

That some impurity doth not pollute. 

'The aged man that coffers-up his gold 

Is plagued with cramps and gouts and painful fits, 

And scarce hath eyes his treasure to behold, 

But like still-pining Tantalus he sits, 

And useless barns the harvest of his wits; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. m 

Having no other pleasure of his gain 860 

But torment that it cannot cure his pain. 

* So then he hath it when he cannot use it, 
And leaves it to be master'd by his young, 
Who in their pride do presently abuse it; 
Their father was too weak, and they too strong, 
To hold their cursed-blessed fortune long. 
The sweets we wish for turn to loathed sours 
Even in the moment that we call them ours. 

1 Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring; 
Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers ; 
The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing; 871 

What virtue breeds iniquity devours : 
We have no good that we can say is ours, 

But ill-annexed Opportunity 

Or kills his life or else his quality. 

'O Opportunity, thy guilt is great ! 

'T is thou that execut'st the traitor's treason : 

Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get; 

Whoever plots the sin, thou point'st the season ; 

'T is thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at reason ; 880 
And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him, 
Sits Sin, to seize the souls thai? wander by him. 

'Thou mak'st the vestal violate her oath; 

Thou blow'st the fire when temperance is thaw'd ; 

Thou smother'st honesty, thou murther'st troth ; 

Thou foul abettor ! thou notorious bawd ! 

Thou plantest scandal and displacest laud; 
Thou ravisher, thou traitor, thou false thief, 
Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief! 

'Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame, 890 

Thy private feasting to a public fast, 
Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name, 



II2 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Thy sugar'd tongue to bitter wormwood taste; 

Thy violent vanities can never last. 
How comes it then, vile Opportunity, 
Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee ? 

' When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's friend, 
And bring him where his suit may be obtain'd ? 
When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end ? 
Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chain'd ? c 
Give physic to the sick, ease to the pain'd ? 

The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee; 

But they ne'er meet with Opportunity. 

' The patient dies while the physician sleeps ; 

The orphan pines while the oppressor feeds; 

Justice is feasting while the widow weeps ; 

Advice is sporting while infection breeds. 

Thou grant'st no time for charitable deeds; 

Wrath, envy, treason, rape, and murther's rages, 
Thy heinous hours wait on them as their pages. < 

1 When Truth and Virtue have to do with thee, 
A thousand crosses keep them from thy aid: 
They buy thy help; but Sin ne'er gives a fee, 
He gratis comes ;• and thou art well appaid . 
As well to hear as grant what he hath said. 
My Collatine would else have come to me 
When Tarquin did, but he was stay'd by thee. 

* Guilty thou art of murther and of theft, 

Guilty of perjury and subornation, 

Guilty of treason, forgery, and shift, « 

Guilty of incest, that abomination ; 

An accessary by thine inclination 

To all sins past, and all that are to come, 
From the creation to the general doom. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 113 

'Misshapen Time, copesmate of ugly Night, 
Swift subtle post, carrier of grisly care, 
Eater of youth, false slave to false delight, 
Base watch of woes, sin's pack-horse, virtue's snare, 
Thou nursest all and murther'st all that are ; 

O, hear me then, injurious, shifting Time ! 930 

Be guilty of my death, since of my crime. 

< Why hath thy servant, Opportunity, 
Betray'd the hours thou gav'st me to repose, 
CancelPd my fortunes, and enchained me 
To endless date of never-ending woes? 
Time's office is to fine the hate of foes ; 

To eat up errors by opinion bred, 

Not spend the dowry of a lawful bed. 

' Time's glory is to calm contending kings, 
To unmask falsehood and bring truth to light, 940 

To stamp the seal of time in aged things, 
To wake the morn and sentinel the night, 
To wrong the wronger till he render right, 
To ruinate proud buildings with thy hours, 
And smear with dust their glittering golden towers ; 

' To fill with worm-holes stately monuments, 
To feed oblivion with decay of things, 
To blot old books and alter their contents, 
To pluck the quills from ancient ravens' wings, 
To dry the old oak's sap and cherish springs, 950 

To spoil antiquities of hammer'd steel, 
And turn the giddy round of Fortune's wheel \ 

1 To show the beldam daughters of her daughter, 
To make the child a man, the man a child, 
To slay the tiger that doth live by slaughter, 
To tame the unicorn and lion wild, 
To mock the subtle in themselves beguil'd, 
H 



ii4 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

To cheer the ploughman with increaseful crops, 
And waste huge stones with little water-drops. 

' Why work'st thou mischief in thy pilgrimage, 960 

Unless thou couldst return to make amends ? 

One poor retiring minute in an age 

Would purchase thee a thousand thousand friends, 

Lending him wit that to bad debtors lends ; 

O, this dread night, wouldst thou one hour come back, 
I could prevent this storm and shun thy wrack ! 

1 Thou ceaseless lackey to eternity, 

With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight: 

Devise extremes beyond extremity, 

To make him curse this cursed crimeful night; 97° 

Let ghastly shadows his lewd eyes affright, 

And the dire thought of his committed evil . 

Shape every bush a hideous shapeless devil. 

' Disturb his hours of rest with restless trances, 
Afflict him in his bed with bedrid groans; 
Let there bechance him pitiful mischances, 
To make him moan, but pity not his moans; , 
Stone him with harden'd hearts, harder than stones; 
And let mild women to him lose their mildness, 
Wilder to him than tigers in their wildness. 980 

1 Let him have time to tear his curled hair, 
Let him have time against himself to rave, 
Let him have time of Time's help to despair, 
Let him have time to live a loathed slave, 
Let him have time a beggar's orts to crave, 
And time to see one that by alms doth live 
Disdain to him disdained scraps to give. 

1 Let him have time to see his friends his foes, 

And merry fools to mock at him resort; 

Let him have time to mark how slow time goes 990 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. ll . 

In time of sorrow, and how swift and short 

His time of folly and his time of sport; 
And ever let his unrecalling crime 
Have time to wail the abusing of his time. 

l Time, thou tutor both to good and bad, 

Teach me to curse him that thou taught'st this ill ! 

At his own shadow let the thief run mad, 

Himself himself seek every hour to kill ! 

Such wretched hands such wretched blood should spill; 
For who so base would such an office have iooo' 

As slanderous deathsman to so base a slave ? 

' The baser is he, coming from a king, 
To shame his hope with deeds degenerate; 
The mightier man, the mightier is the thing 
That makes him honour'd or begets him hate, 
For greatest scandal waits on greatest state. 
The moon being clouded presently is miss'd, 
But little stars may hide them when they list. 

'The crow may bathe his coal-black wings in mire, 

And unperceiv'd fly with the filth away; ' 10IO 

But if the like the snow-white swan desire, 

The stain upon his silver down will stay. 

Poor grooms are sightless night, kings glorious day; 

Gnats are unnoted wheresoe'er they fly, 

But eagles gaz'd upon with every eye. 

' Out, idle words, servants to shallow fools ! 

Unprofitable sounds, weak arbitrators ! 

Busy yourselves in skill-contending schools; 

Debate where leisure serves with dull debaters; 

To trembling clients be you mediators : 1020 

For me, I force not argument a straw, 
Since that my case is past the help of law. 



n6 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

' In vain I rail at Opportunity, 

At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night; 

In vain I cavil with mine infamy, 

In vain I spurn at my confirm'd despite: 

This helpless smoke of words doth me no right. 

The remedy indeed to do me good 

Is to let forth my foul-defiled blood. 

* Poor hand, why quiver'st thou at this decree ? 1030 

Honour thyself to rid me of this shame ; 

For if I die, my honour lives in thee ; 

But if I live, thou liv'st in my defame : 

Since thou couldst not defend thy loyal dame, 
And wast afeard to scratch her wicked foe, 
Kill both thyself and her for yielding so.' 

This said, from her betumbled couch she starteth, 
To find some desperate instrument of death; 
But this no slaughterhouse no tool imparteth 
To make more vent for passage of her breath, 1040 

Which, thronging through her lips, so vanisheth 
As smoke from ^Etna, that in air consumes, 
Or that which from discharged cannon fumes. 

1 In vain,' quoth she, 1 1 live, and seek in vain 
Some happy mean to end a hapless life. 
I fear'd by Tarquin's falchion to be slain, 
Yet for the selfsame purpose seek a knife. 
But when I fear'd I was a loyal wife ; 

So am I now : O no, that cannot be; 

Of that true type hath Tarquin rifled me. 1050 

* O, that is gone for which I sought to live, 
And therefore now I need not fear to die. 
To clear this spot by death, at least I give 
A badge of fame to slander's livery, 
A dying life to living infamy; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



117 



Poor helpless help, the treasure stolen away, 
To burn the guiltless casket where it lay ! 

' Well, well, dear Collatine, thou shalt not know 

The stained taste of violated troth ; 

I will not wrong thy true affection so, 1060 

To flatter thee with an infringed oath; 

This bastard graff shall never come to growth : 

He shall not boast who did thy stock pollute 

That thou art doting father of his fruit. 

' Nor shall he smile at thee in secret thought, 
Nor laugh with his companions at thy state ; 
But thou shalt know thy interest was not bought 
Basely with gold, but stolen from forth thy gate. 
For me, I am the mistress of my fate, 

And with my trespass never will dispense, 1070 

Till life to death acquit my forc'd offence. 

'I will not poison thee with my attaint, 
Nor fold my fault in cleanly-coin'd excuses ; 
My sable ground of sin I will not paint, 
To hide the truth of this false night's abuses: 
My tongue shall utter all ; mine eyes, like sluices, 
As from a mountain-spring that feeds a dale, 
Shall gush pure streams to purge my impure tale.' 

By this, lamenting Philomel had ended 
The well-tun'd warble of her nightly sorrow, 1080 

And solemn night with slow sad gait descended 
To ugly hell ; when, lo, the blushing morrow 
Lends light to all fair eyes that light will borrow : 
But cloudy Lucrece shames herself to see, 
And therefore still in night would cloister'd be. 

Revealing day through every cranny spies, 

And seems to point her out where she sits weeping; 

To whom she sobbing speaks : ' O eye of eyes, 



n 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Why pry'st thou through my window? leave thy peep- 
ing; 

Mock with thy tickling beams eyes that are sleeping; 
Brand not my forehead with thy piercing light, 1091 
For day hath nought to do what 's done by night.' 

Thus cavils she with every thing she sees : 
True grief is fond and testy as a child, 
Who wayward once, his mood with nought agrees ; 
Old woes, not infant sorrows, bear them mild : 
Continuance tames the one ; the other wild, 
Like an unpractis'd swimmer plunging still, 
With too much labour drowns for want of skill. 

So she, deep-drenched in a sea of care, hoc 

Holds disputation with each thing she views, 
And to herself all sorrow doth compare; 
No object but her passion's strength renews ; 
And as one shifts, another straight ensues : 

Sometime her grief is dumb and hath no words ; 

Sometime 't is mad and too much talk affords. 

The little birds that tune their morning's joy 
Make her moans mad with their sweet melody : 
For mirth doth search the bottom of annoy ; 
Sad souls are slain in merry, company ; mc 

Grief best is pleas'd with griefs society; 
True sorrow then is feelingly suffic'd 
When with like semblance it is sympathiz'd. 

'T is double death to drown in ken of shore ; 
He ten times pines that pines beholding food ; 
To see the salve doth make the wound ache more ; 
Great grief grieves most at that would do it good ; 
Deep woes roll forward like a gentle flood, 

Who, being stopp'd, the bounding banks o'erflows ; 

Grief dallied with nor law nor limit knows. n2< 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



119 



4 You mocking birds,' quoth she, ' your tunes entomb 
Within your hollow-swelling feather'd breasts, 
And in my hearing be you mute and dumb j 
My restless discord loves no stops nor rests ; 
A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests-: 

Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears ; 

Distress likes dumps when time is kept with tears. 

* Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment, 
Make thy sad grove in my dishevell'd hair : 

As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, 1130 

So I at each sad strain will strain a tear, 
And with deep groans the diapason bear ; 
For burden-wise I '11 hum on Tarquin still, 
While thou on Tereus descant'st better skill. 

' And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part, 
To keep thy sharp woes waking, wretched I, 
To imitate thee well, against my heart 
Will fix a sharp knife to affright mine eye, 
Who, if it- wink, shall thereon fall and die. 

These means, as frets upon an instrument, 1140 

Shall tune our heart-strings to true languishment. 

* And for, poor bird, thou sing'st not in the day, 
As shaming any eye should thee behold, 
Some dark deep desert, seated from the way, 
That knows not parching heat nor freezing cold, 
Will we find out; and there we will unfold 

To creatures stern sad tunes, to change their kinds: 
Since men prove beasts, let beasts bear gentle minds.' 

As the poor frighted deer, that stands at gaze, 

Wildly determining which way to fly, u 5 o 

Or one encompass'd with a winding maze, 

That cannot tread the way out readily ; 

So with herself is she in mutiny, 



120 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

To live or die which of the twain were better, 
When life is sham'd, and death reproach's debtor. 

'To kill myself,' quoth she, 'alack, what were it, 
But with my body my poor soul's pollution? 
They that lose half with greater patience bear it 
Than they whose whole is swallow'd in confusion. 
That mother tries a merciless conclusion n6o 

Who, having two sweet babes, when death takes one, 
Will slay the other and be nurse to none. 

1 My body or my soul, which was the dearer, 
When the one pure, the other made divine? 
Whose love of either to myself was nearer, 
When both were kept for heaven and Collatine ? 
Ay me ! the bark peel'd from the lofty pine, 

His leaves will wither and his sap decay ; 

So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away. 

' Her house is sack'd, her quiet interrupted, u 7 o 

Her mansion batter'd by the enemy ; 

Her sacred temple spotted, spoil'd, corrupted, 

Grossly engirt with daring infamy : 

Then let it not be call'd impiety, 

If in this blemish'd fort I make some hole 
Through which I may convey this troubled soul. 

'Yet die I will not till my Collatine 

Have heard the cause of my untimely death ; 

That he may vow, in that sad hour of mine, 

Revenge on him that made me stop my breath. n8o 

My stained blood to Tarquin I '11 bequeath, 

Which by him tainted shall for him be spent, 

And as his due writ in my testament. 

'My honour I '11 bequeath unto the knife 
That wounds my body so dishonoured. 
'T is honour to deprive dishonour'd life ; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 121 

The one will live, the other being dead : 
So of shame's ashes shall my fame be bred, 

For in my death I murther shameful scorn ; 

My shame so dead, mine honour is new-born. 1190 

1 Dear lord of that dear jewel I have lost, 

What legacy shall I bequeath to thee ? 

My resolution, love, shall be thy boast, 

By whose example thou reveng'd mayst be. 

How Tarquin must be us'd, read it in me ; 
Myself, thy friend, will kill myself, thy foe, 
And for my sake serve thou false Tarquin so. 

' This brief abridgement of my will I make : 
My soul and body to the skies and ground; 
My resolution, husband, do thou take ; 1200 

Mine honour be the knife's that makes my wound ; 
My shame be his that did my fame confound ; 
And all my fame that lives disbursed be 
To those that live, and think no shame of me. 

* Thou, Collatine, shalt oversee this will ; 

How was I overseen that thou shalt see it ! 

My blood shall wash the slander of mine ill; 

My life's foul deed, my life's fair end shall free it. 

Faint not, faint heart, but stoutly say " So be it :" 
Yield to my hand; my hand shall conquer thee : 121a 
Thou dead, both die, and both shall victors be.' 

This plot of death when sadly she had laid, 
And wip'd the brinish pearl from her bright eyes, 
With untun'd tongue she hoarsely calls her maid, 
Whose swift obedience to her mistress hies; 
For fleet-wing'd duty with thought's feathers flies. 
Poor Lucrece' cheeks unto her maid seem so 
As winter meads when sun doth melt their snow. 



I22 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Her mistress she doth give demure good-morrow, 
With soft-slow tongue, true mark of modesty, 1220 

And sorts a sad look to her lady's sorrow, 
For why, her face wore sorrow's livery ; 
But durst not ask of her audaciously 

Why her two suns were cloud-eclipsed so, 
Nor why her fair cheeks over-wash'd with woe. 

But as the earth doth weep, the sun being set, 
Each flower moisten'd like a melting eye, 
Even so the maid with swelling drops gan wet 
Her circled eyne, enforc'd by sympathy 
Of those fair suns set in her mistress' sky, 1230 

Who in a salt-wav'd ocean quench their light, 
Which makes the maid weep like the dewy night. 

A pretty while these pretty creatures stand, 
Like ivory conduits coral cisterns filling: 
One justly weeps ; the other takes in hand 
No cause, but company, of her drops spilling: 
Their gentle sex to weep are often willing ; 

Grieving themselves to guess at others' smarts, 
And then they drown their eyes or break their hearts. 

For men have marble, women waxen, minds, 1240 

And therefore are they form'd as marble will ; 
The weak oppress'd, the impression of strange kinds 
Is form'd in them by force, by fraud, or skill : • 
Then call them not the authors of their ill, 
No more than wax shall be accounted evil 
Wherein is stamp'd the semblance of a devil. 

Their smoothness, like a goodly champaign plain, 
Lays open all the little worms that creep ; 
In men, as in a rough-grown grove, remain 
Cave-keeping evils that obscurely sleep : 1250 

Through crystal walls each little mote will peep; 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. I23 

Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, 
Poor women's faces are their own faults' books. 

No man inveigh against the wither'd flower, 
But chide rough winter that the flower hath kill'd ; 
Not that devour'd, but that which doth devour, 
Is worthy blame. O, let it not be hild 
Poor women's faults, that they are so fulfill'd 
With men's abuses; those proud lords, to blame, 
Make weak-made women tenants to their shame. 1260 

The precedent whereof in Lucrece view, 
Assail'd by night with circumstances strong 
Of present death, and shame that might ensue 
By that her death, to do her husband wrong: 
Such danger to resistance did belong, 

That dying fear through all her body spread ; 

And who cannot abuse a body dead ? 

By this, mild patience bid fair Lucrece speak 
To the poor counterfeit of her complaining: 
' My girl,' quoth she, ' on what occasion break 1270 

Those tears from thee, that down thy cheeks are rain- 
ing? 
If thou dost weep for grief of my sustaining, 

Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood; 

If tears could help, mine own would do me good. 

'But tell me, girl, when went' — and there she stay'd 
Till after a deep groan — ' Tarquin from hence ? ' 
' Madam, ere I was up,' replied the maid, 
'The more to blame my sluggard negligence: 
Yet with the fault I thus far can dispense ; 

Myself was stirring ere the break of day, 1280 

And, ere I rose, was Tarquin gone away. 

'But, lady, if your maid may be so bold, 
She would request to know your heaviness.' 



124 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

'O, peace !' quoth Lucrece : * if it should be told, 

The repetition cannot make it less, 

For more it is than I can well express; 
And that deep torture may be calPd a hell 
When more is felt than one hath power to tell. 

* Go, get me hither paper, ink, and pen ; — 
Yet save that labour, for I have them here. 
What should I say ? One of my husband's men 
Bid thou be ready, by and by, to bear 
A letter to my lord, my love, my dear: 

Bid him with speed prepare to carry it; 

The cause craves haste, and it will soon be writ.' 

Her maid is gone, and she prepares to write, 
First hovering o'er the paper with her quill : 
Conceit and grief an eager combat fight ; 
What wit sets down is blotted straight with will; 
This is too curious-good, this blunt and ill : 
Much like a press of people at a door, 
Throng her inventions, which shall go before. 

At last she thus begins : ' Thou worthy lord 
Of that unworthy wife that greeteth thee, 
Health to thy person ! next vouchsafe t' afford — ■ 
If ever, love, thy Lucrece thou wilt see — 
Some present speed to come and visit me. 

So, I commend me from our house in grief; 

My woes are tedious, though my words are brief.' 

Here folds she up the tenour of her woe, 

Her certain sorrow writ uncertainly. 

By this short schedule Collatine may know 

Her grief, but not her grief's true quality ; 

She dares not thereof make discovery, 

Lest he should hold it her own gross abuse, 

Ere she with blood had stain'd her stain'd excuse. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 125 

Besides, the life and feeling of her passion 
She hoards, to spend when he is by to hear her; 
When sighs and groans and tears may grace the fashion 
Of her disgrace, the better so to clear her 1320 

From that suspicion which the world might bear her. 
To shun this blot, she would not blot the letter 
With words, till action might become them better. 

To see sad sights moves more than hear them told; 

For then the eye interprets to the ear 

The heavy motion that it doth behold, 

When every part a part of woe doth bear. 

'T is but a part of sorrow that we hear; 

Deep sounds make lesser noise than shallow fords, 
And sorrow ebbs, being blown with wind of words. 

Her letter now is seal'd, and on it writ 1331 

'At Ardea to my lord with more than haste.' 
The post attends, and she delivers it, 
Charging the sour-fac'd groom to hie as fast 
As lagging fowls before the northern blast: 

Speed more than speed but dull and slow she deems; 

Extremity still urgeth such extremes. 

The homely villain curtsies to her low, 

And, blushing on her, with a steadfast eye 

Receives the scroll without or yea or no, 1340 

And forth with bashful innocence doth hie. 

But they whose guilt within their bosoms lie 

Imagine every eye beholds their blame; 

For Lucrece thought he blush'd to see her shame, 

When, silly groom ! God wot, it was defect 
Of spirit, life, and bold audacity. 
Such harmless creatures have a true respect 
To talk in deeds, while others saucily 
Promise more speed, but do it leisurely ; 



I2 6 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Even so this pattern of the worn-out age 1350 

Pawn'd honest looks, but laid no words to gage. 

His kindled duty kindled her mistrust, 
That two red fires in both their faces blaz'd ; 
She thought he blush'd, as knowing Tarquin's lust, 
And, blushing with him, wistly on him gaz'd. 
Her earnest eye did make him more amaz'd ; 

The more she saw the blood his cheeks replenish, 
The more she thought he spied in her some blemish. 

But long she thinks till he return again, 

And yet the duteous vassal scarce is gone. 1360 

The weary time she cannot entertain, 

For now 't is stale to sigh, to weep, and groan ; 

So woe hath wearied woe, moan tired moan, 
That she her plaints a little while doth stay, 
Pausing for means to mourn some newer way. 

At last she calls to mind where hangs a piece 
Of skilful painting, made for Priam's Troy, 
Before the which is drawn the power of Greece, 
For Helen's rape the city to destroy, 
Threatening cloud-kissing Ilion with annoy ; 1370 

Which the conceited painter drew so proud, 
As heaven, it seem'd, to kiss the turrets bow'd. 

A thousand lamentable objects there, 

In scorn of nature, art gave lifeless life: 

Many a dry drop seem'd a weeping tear, 

Shed for the slaughter'd husband by the wife ; 

The red blood reek'd, to show the painter's strife, 
And dying eyes gleam'd forth their ashy lights, 
Like dying coals burnt out in tedious nights. 

There might you see the labouring pioneer 1380 

Begrim'd with sweat, and smeared all with dust; 
And from the towers of Troy there would appear 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 127 

The very eyes of men through loop-holes thrust, 

Gazing upon the Greeks with little lust: 

Such sweet observance in this work was had, 
That one might see those far-off eyes look sad. 

In great commanders grace and majesty 
You might behold, triumphing in their faces ; 
In youth, quick bearing and dexterity; 
And here and there the painter interlaces 1390 

Pale cowards, marching on with trembling paces, 
Which heartless peasants did so well resemble, 
That one would swear he saw them quake and tremble. 

In Ajax and Ulysses, O, what art 
Of physiognomy might one behold ! 
The face of either cipher'd either's heart, 
Their face their manners most expressly told: 
In Ajax' eyes blunt rage and rigour roll'd, „ 
But the mild glance that sly Ulysses lent 
Show'd deep regard and smiling government. moo 

There pleading might you see grave Nestor stand, 
As 't were encouraging the Greeks to fight, 
Making such sober action with his hand, 
That it beguil'd attention, charm'd the sight; 
In speech, it seem'd, his beard, all silver white, 
Wagg'd up and down, and from his lips did fly 
Thin winding breath, which puiTd up to the sky. 

About him were a press of gaping faces, 
Which seem'd to swallow up his sound advice; 
All jointly listening, but with several graces, 1410 

As if some mermaid did their ears entice, 
Some high, some low, the painter was so nice : 
The scalps of many, almost hid behind, 
To jump up higher seem'd, to mock the mind. 



I2 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Here one man's hand lean'd on another's head, 

His nose being shadow'd by his neighbour's ear; 

Here one being throng'd bears back, all bollen and red ; 

Another smother'd seems to pelt and swear ; 

And in their rage such signs of rage they bear, 

As, but for loss of Nestor's golden words, 1420 

It seem'd they would debate with angry swords. 

For much imaginary work was there; 
Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind, 
That for Achilles' image stood his spear, 
Grip'd in an armed hand; himself, behind, 
Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind: 

A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head, 

Stood for the whole to be imagined. 

And from the walls of strong-besieged Troy 
When their brave hope, bold Hector, march'd to field, 
Stood many Trojan mothers, sharing joy 143* 

To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield; 
And to their hope they such odd action yield, 
That through their light joy seemed to appear, 
Like bright things stain'd, a kind of heavy fear. 

And from the strand of Dardan, where they fought, 
To Simois' reedy banks the red blood ran, 
Whose waves to imitate the battle sought 
With swelling ridges; and their ranks began 
To break upon the galled shore, and than 1440 

Retire again, till, meeting greater ranks, 
They join and shoot their foam at Simois' banks. 

To this well-painted piece is Lucrece come, 
To find a face where all distress is stell'd. 
Many she sees where cares have carved some, 
But none where all distress and dolour dwell'd, 
Till she despairing Hecuba beheld, 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. I2 g 

Staring on Priam's wounds with her old eyes, 
Which bleeding under Pyrrhus' proud foot lies. 

In her the painter had anatomiz'd i 45 o 

Time's ruin, beauty's wrack, and grim care's reign : 
Her cheeks with chaps and wrinkles were disguis'd; 
Of what she was no semblance did remain : 
Her blue blood chang'd to black in every vein, 

Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed, 

Show'd life imprison'd in a body dead. 

On this sad shadow Lucrece spends her eyes, 

And shapes her sorrow to the beldam's woes, 

Who nothing wants to answer her but cries, 

And bitter words to ban her cruel foes. I4 6o 

The painter was no god to lend her those; 

And therefore Lucrece swears he did her wrong, 
To give her so much grief and not a tongue. 

' Poor instrument,' quoth she, ' without a sound, 
I '11 tune thy woes with my lamenting tongue, 
And drop sweet balm in Priam's painted wound, 
And rail on Pyrrhus that hath done him wrong, 
And with my tears quench Troy that burns so long, 
And with my knife scratch out the angry eyes 
Of all the Greeks that are thine enemies. M70 

' Show me the strumpet that began this stir, 
That with my nails her beauty I may tear. 
Thy heat of lust, fond Paris, did incur 
This load of wrath that burning Troy doth bear; 
Thy eye kindled the fire that burneth here ; 
And here in Troy, for trespass of thine eye, 
The sire, the son, the dame, and daughter die. 

1 Why should the private pleasure of some one 
Become the public plague of many moe? 
Let sin, alone committed, light alone 14 8o 

I 



13° 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Upon his head that hath transgressed so ; 
Let guiltless souls be freed from guilty woe: 

For one's offence why should so many fall, 

To plague a private sin in general? 

' Lo, here weeps Hecuba, here Priam dies, 
Here manly Hector faints, here Troilus swounds, 
Here friend by friend in bloody channel lies, 
And friend to friend gives unadvised wounds, 
And one man's lust these many lives confounds ; 

Had doting Priam check'd his son's desire, 1490 

Troy had been bright with fame and not with fire.' 

Here feelingly she weeps Troy's painted woes: 
For sorrow, like a heavy-hanging bell, 
Once set on ringing, with his own weight goes ; 
Then little strength rings out the doleful knell. 
So Lucrece, set a-work, sad tales doth tell 

To pencill'd pensiveness and colour'd sorrow; 

She lends them words, and she their looks doth borrow. 

She throws her eyes about the painting round, 
And who she finds forlorn she doth lament. 150° 

At last she sees a wretched image bound, 
That piteous looks to Phrygian shepherds lent: 
His face, though full of cares, yet show'd content; 
Onward to Troy with the blunt swains he goes, 
So mild, that Patience seem'd to scorn his woes. 

In him the painter labour'd with his skill 
To hide deceit, and give the harmless show 
An humble gait, calm looks, eyes wailing still, 
A brow unbent, that seem'd to welcome woe ; 
Cheeks neither red nor pale, but mingled so 1510 

That blushing red no guilty instance gave, 
Nor ashy pale the fear that false hearts have. 



THE RAPE OF LUCKECE. 13 x 

But, like a constant and confirmed devil, 

He entertain'd a show so seeming just, 

And therein so ensconc'd his secret evil, 

That jealousy itself could not mistrust 

False-creeping craft and perjury should thrust 
Into so bright a day such black-fac'd storms, 
Or blot with hell-born sin such saintlike forms. 

The well-skill'd workman this mild image drew 1520 

For perjur'd Sinon, whose enchanting story 
The credulous old Priam after slew ; 
Whose words like wildfire burnt the shining glory 
Of rich-built Ilion, that the skies were sorry, 
And little stars shot from their fixed places, 
When their glass fell wherein they view'd their faces. 

This picture she advisedly perus'd, 
And chid the painter for his wondrous skill, 
Saying, some shape in Sinon's was abus'd; 
So fair a form lodg'd not a mind so ill : 1530 

And still on him she gaz'd ; and gazing still, 
Such signs of truth in his plain face she spied, 
That she concludes the picture was belied. 

' It cannot be,' quoth she, ' that so much guile ' — 
She would have said ' can lurk in such a look/ 
But Tarquin's shape came in her mind the while, 
And from her tongue ' can lurk' from ' cannot ' took. 
* It cannot be ' she in that sense forsook, 
And turn'd it thus, ' It cannot be, I find, 
But such a. face should bear a wicked mind : 1540 

' For even as subtle Sinon here is painted, 
So sober-sad, so weary, and so mild, 
As if with grief or travail he had fainted, 
To me came Tarquin armed; so beguil'd 
With outward honesty, but yet defil'd 



132 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

With inward vice : as Priam him did cherish, 
So did I Tarquin ; so my Troy did perish. 

1 Look, look, how listening Priam wets his eyes, 
To see those borrow'd tears that Sinon sheds ! 
Priam, why art thou old and yet not wise ? 1550 

For every tear he falls a Trojan bleeds: 
His eye drops fire, no water thence proceeds; 
Those round clear pearls of his, that move thy pity, 
Are balls of quenchless fire to burn thy city. 

' Such devils steal effects from lightless hell ; 
For Sinon in his fire doth quake with cold, 
And in that cold hot-burning fire doth dwell ; 
These contraries such unity do hold, 
Only to flatter fools and make them bold : 

So Priam's trust false Sinon's tears doth flatter, 1560 
That he finds means to burn his Troy with water.' 

Here, all enrag'd, such passion her assails, 
That patience is quite beaten from her breast. 
She tears the senseless Sinon with her nails, 
Comparing him to that unhappy guest 
Whose deed hath made herself herself detest. 
At last she smilingly with this gives o'er : 
1 Fool, fool 1' quoth she, 'his wounds will not be sore.' 

Thus ebbs and flows the current of her sorrow, 
And time doth weary time with her complaining. 1570 
She looks for night, and then she longs for morrow, 
And both she thinks too long with her remaining. 
Short time seems long in sorrow's sharp sustaining : 

Though woe be heavy, yet it seldom sleeps ; 

And they that watch see time how slow it creeps. 

Which all this time hath overslipp'd her thought, 
That she with painted images hath spent ; 
Being from the feeling of her own grief brought 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



*33 



By deep surmise of others' detriment, 

Losing her woes in shows of discontent. 1580 

It easeth some, though none it ever cur'd, 
To think their dolour others have endur'd. 

But now the mindful messenger, come back, 
Brings home his lord and other company, 
Who finds his Lucrece clad in mourning black; 
And round about her tear-distained eye 
Blue circles stream'd, like rainbows in the sky : 
These water-galls in her dim element 
Foretell new storms to those already spent. 

Which when her sad-beholding husband saw, 1590 

Amazedly in her sad face he stares; 

Her eyes, though sod in tears, look'd red and raw, 

Her lively colour kill'd with deadly cares. 

He hath no power to ask her how she fares ; 
Both stood, like old acquaintance in a trance, 
Met far from home, wondering each other's chance. 

At last he takes her by the bloodless hand, 
And thus begins : ' W r hat uncouth ill event 
Hath thee befallen, that thou dost trembling stand? 
Sweet love, what spite hath thy fair colour spent ? 1600 
Why art thou thus attir'd in discontent ? 
Unmask, dear dear, this moody heaviness, 
And tell thy grief, that we may give redress.' 

Three times with sighs she gives her sorrow fire, 

Ere once she can discharge one word of woe ; 

At length address'd to answer his desire, 

She modestly prepares to let them know 

Her honour is ta'en prisoner by the foe, 
While Collatine and his consorted lords 
With sad attention long to hear her words. 1610 



*34 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

And now this pale swan in her watery nest 
Begins the sad dirge of her certain ending : 
' Few words,' quoth she, ■ shall fit the trespass best, 
Where no excuse can give the fault amending ; 
In me moe woes than words are now depending, 
And my laments would be drawn out too long, 
To tell them all with one poor tired tongue. 

1 Then be this all the task it hath to say : 

Dear husband, in the interest of thy bed 

A stranger came, and on that pillow lay 1620 

Where thou wast wont to rest thy weary head ; 

And what wrong else may be imagined 

By foul enforcement might be done to me, 

From that, alas, thy Lucrece is not free. 

'For in the dreadful dead of dark midnight, 
With shining falchion in my chamber came 
A creeping creature, with a flaming light, 
And softly cried "Awake, thou Roman dame, 
And entertain my love ; else lasting shame 

On thee and thine this night I will inflict, 1630 

If thou my love's desire do contradict. 

'"For some hard-favour'd groom of thine," quoth he, 

" Unless thou yoke thy liking to my will, 

I '11 murther straight, and then I '11 slaughter thee 

And swear I found you where you did fulfil 

The loathsome act of lust, and so did kill 

The lechers in their deed ; this act will be 

My fame and thy perpetual infamy." 

' With this, I did begin to start and cry; 

And then against my heart he sets his sword, 1640 

Swearing, unless I took all patiently, 

I should not live to speak another word ; 

So should my shame still rest upon record, 



THE RAPE OF LUCKECE. I35 

And never be forgot in mighty Rome 

The adulterate death of Lucrece and her groom. 

' Mine enemy was strong, my poor self weak, 

And far the weaker with so strong a fear : 

My bloody judge forbade my tongue to speak ; 

No rightful plea might plead for justice theie : 

His scarlet lust came evidence to swear 1650 

That my poor beauty had purloin'd his eyes ; 

And when the judge is robb'd the prisoner dies. 

' O, teach me how to make mine own excuse ! 

Or at the least this refuge let me find : 

Though my gross blood be stain'd with this abuse, 

Immaculate and spotless is my mind ; 

That was not forc'd ; that never was inclin'd 
To accessary yieldings, but still pure 
Doth in her poison'd closet yet endure.' 

Lo, here, the hopeless merchant of this loss, 1660 

With head declin'd, and voice damm'd up with woe, 
With sad-set eyes, and wretched arms across, 
From lips new-waxen pale begins to blow 
The grief away that stops his answer so : 

But, wretched as he is, he strives in vain ; 

What he breathes out his breath drinks up again. 

As through an arch the violent roaring tide 
Outruns the eye that doth behold his haste, 
Yet in the eddy boundeth in his pride 
Back to the strait that forc'd him on so fast, 1670 

In rage sent out, recall'd in rage, being past ; 
Even so his sighs, his sorrows, make a saw, 
To push grief on, and back the same grief draw. 

Which speechless woe of his poor she attendeth, 

And his untimely frenzy thus awaketh : 

' Dear lord, thy sorrow to my sorrow lendeth 



I3 6 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Another power ; no flood by raining slaketh. 

My woe too sensible thy passion maketh 
More feeling-painful ; let it then suffice 
To drown one woe, one pair of weeping eyes. 1680 

' And for my sake, when I might charm thee so, 

For she that was thy Lucrece, now attend me: 

Be suddenly revenged on my foe, 

Thine, mine, his own ; suppose thou dost defend me 

From what is past : the help that thou shalt lend me 

Comes all too late, yet let the traitor die, 

For sparing justice feeds iniquity. 

* But ere I name him, you fair lords,' quoth she, 
Speaking to those that came with Collatine, 

* Shall plight your honourable faiths to me, 1690 
With swift pursuit to venge this wrong of mine ; 

For 't is a meritorious fair design 

To chase injustice with revengeful arms : 
Knights, by their oaths, should right poor ladies' 
harms.' 

At this request, with noble disposition 
Each present lord began to promise aid, 
As bound in knighthood to her imposition, 
Longing to hear the hateful foe bewray'd. 
But she, that yet her sad task hath not said, 

The protestation stops. ' O, speak,' quoth she, 1700 
' How may this forced stain be wip'd from me? 

1 What is the quality of mine offence, 

Being constrain'd with dreadful circumstance ? 

May my pure mind with the foul act dispense, 

My low-declined honour to advance ? 

May any terms acquit me from this chance? 

The poison'd fountain clears itself again ; 

And why not I from this compelled stain?' 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 



*37 



With this, they all at once began to say, 

Her body's stain her mind untainted clears \ 171° 

While with a joyless smile she turns away 

The face, that map which deep impression bears 

Of hard misfortune, carv'd in it with tears. 

' No, no,' quoth she, ' no dame, hereafter living, 
By my excuse shall claim excuse's giving.' 

Here with a sigh, as if her heart would break, 
She throws forth Tarquin's name : ' He, he,' she says, 
But more than ' he ' her poor tongue could not speak ; 
Till after many accents and delays, 
Untimely breathings, sick and short assays, 1720 

She utters this, ' He, he, fair lords, 't is he, 
That guides this hand to give this wound to me.' 

Even here she sheathed in her harmless breast 
A harmful knife, that thence her soul unsheath'd: 
That blow did bail it from the deep unrest 
Of that polluted prison where it breath 'd : 
Her contrite sighs unto the clouds bequeath'd 

Her winged sprite, and through her wounds doth fly 
Life's lasting date from cancell'd destiny. 

Stone-still, astonish'd with this deadly deed, 1730 

Stood Collatine and all his lordly crew ; 

Till Lucrece' father, that beholds her bleed, 

Himself on her self-slaughter'd body threw ; 

And from the purple fountain Brutus drew 
The murtherous knife, and, as it left the place, 
Her blood, in poor revenge, held it in chase; 

And bubbling from her breast, it doth divide 

In two slow rivers, that the crimson blood 

Circles her body in on every side, 

Who, like a late-sack'd island, vastly stood , 740 

Bare and unpeopled in this fearful flood. 



i3« 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Some of her blood still pure and red remain'd, 

And some look'd black, and that false Tarquin stain'd. 

About the mourning and congealed face 
Of that black blood a watery rigol goes, 
Which seems to weep upon the tainted place : 
And ever since, as pitying Lucrece' woes, 
Corrupted blood some watery token shows ; 
And blood untainted still doth red abide, 
Blushing at that which is so putrefied. 175° 

' Daughter, dear daughter,' old Lucretius cries, 
' That life was mine which thou hast here depriv'd. 
If in the child the father's image lies, 
Where shall I live now Lucrece is unliv'd ? 
Thou wast not to this end from me deriv'd. 
If children pre-decease progenitors, 
We are their offspring, and they none of ours. 

' Poor broken glass, I often did behold 
In thy sweet semblance my old age new born ; 
But now that fair fresh mirror, dim and old, 1760 

Shows me a bare-bon'd death by time outworn : 
O, from thy cheeks my image thou hast torn, 
And shiver'd all the beauty of my glass, 
That I no more can see what once I was ! 

' O time, cease thou thy course and last no longer, 
If they surcease to be that should survive. 
Shall rotten death make conquest of the stronger 
And leave the faltering feeble souls alive ? 
The old bees die, the young possess their hive ; 

Then live, sweet Lucrece, live again and see 1770 

Thy father die, and not thy father thee !' 

By this, starts Collatine as from a dream, 
And bids Lucretius give his sorrow place ; 
And then in key-cold Lucrece' bleeding stream 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 139 

He falls, and bathes the pale fear in his face, 
And counterfeits to die with her a space, 

Till manly shame bids him possess his breath 

And live to be revenged on her death. 

The deep vexation of his inward soul 

Hath serv'd a dumb arrest upon his tongue, 1780 

Who, mad that sorrow should his use control, 

Or keep him from heart-easing words so long, 

Begins to talk; but through his lips do throng 

Weak words, so thick come in his poor heart's aid, 
That no man could distinguish what he said. 

Yet sometime 'Tarquin ' was pronounced plain, 
But through his teeth, as if the name he tore. 
This windy tempest, till it blow up rain, 
Held back his sorrow's tide, to make it more; 
At last it rains, and busy winds give o'er: i 79 o 

Then son and father weep with equal strife 
Who should weep most, for daughter or for wife. 

The one doth call her his, the other his, 
Yet neither may possess the claim they lay. 
The father says * She 's mine.' ' O, mine she is,' 
Replies her husband : ' do not take away 
My sorrow's interest; let no mourner say 

He weeps for her, for she was only mine, 

And only must be wail'd by Collatine.' 

c O,' quoth Lucretius, ' I did give that life 1800 

Which she too early and too late hath spill'd.' 
' Woe, woe,' quoth Collatine, ' she was my wife, 
I owed her, and 't is mine that she hath kill'd.' 
1 My daughter ' and ' my wife ' with clamours fill'd 
The dispers'd air, who, holding Lucrece' life, 
Answer'd their cries, * my daughter ' and ' my wife.' 



140 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Brutus, who pluck'd the knife from Lucrece' side, 
Seeing such emulation in their woe, 
Began to clothe his wit in state and pride, 
Burying in Lucrece' wound his folly's show. 1810 

He with the Romans was esteemed so 
As silly-jeering idiots are with kings, 
For sportive words and uttering foolish things ; 

But now he throws that shallow habit by, 

Wherein deep policy did him disguise, 

And arm'd his long-hid wits advisedly, 

To check the tears in Collatinus' eyes. 

'Thou wronged lord of Rome,' quoth he, ' arise; 
Let my unsounded self, suppos'd a fool, 
Now set thy long-experienc'd wit to school. 1820 

1 Why, Collatine, is woe the cure for woe ? 

Do wounds help wounds, or grief help grievous deeds ? 

Is it revenge to give thyself a blow 

For his foul act by whom thy fair wife bleeds ? 

Such childish humour from weak minds proceeds; 
Thy wretched wife mistook the matter so, 
To slay herself, that should have slain her foe. 

' Courageous Roman, do not steep thy heart 

In such relenting dew of lamentations; 

But kneel with me and help to bear thy part, 1830 

To rouse our Roman gods with invocations, 

That they will suffer these abominations, 

Since Rome herself in them doth stand disgrac'd, 
By our strong arms from forth her fair streets chas'd. 

' Now, by the Capitol that we adore, 

And by this chaste blood so unjustly stain'd, 

By heaven's fair sun that breeds the fat earth's store, 

By all our country rights in Rome maintain'd, 

And by chaste Lucrece' soul that late complain'd 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 141 

Her wrongs to us, and by this bloody knife, 1840 

We will revenge the death of this true wife.' 

This said, he struck his hand upon his breast, 
And kiss'd the fatal knife, to end his vow ; 
And to his protestation urg'd the rest, 
Who, wondering at him, did his words allow: 
Then jointly to the ground their knees they bow; 
And that deep vow, which Brutus made before, 
He doth again repeat, and that they swore. 

When they had sworn to this advised doom, 

They did conclude to bear dead Lucrece thence, 1850 

To show her bleeding body thorough Rome, 

And so to publish Tarquin's foul offence; 

Which being done with speedy diligence, 

The Romans plausibly did give consent 

To Tarquin's everlasting banishment. 





KOMAN MATRON- 




yhf: • 







,/: .? 



' '::.-"■■"■.. 








From off a hill whose concave womb re-worded 
A plaintful story from a sistering vale, 
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, 
And down I laid to list the sad-tun'd tale; 
Ere long espied a fickle maid full pale, 
Tearing of papers, breaking rings a-twain, 
Storming her world with sorrow's wind and rain. 

Upon her head a platted hive of straw, 
Which fortified her visage from the sun, 
Whereon the thought might think sometime it saw 



I4 6 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

The carcass of a beauty spent and done; 
Time had not scythed all that youth begun, 
Nor youth all quit, but, spite of heaven's fell rage, 
Some beauty peep'd through lattice of sear'd age. 

Oft did she heave her napkin to her eyne, 

Which on it had conceited characters, 

Laundering the silken figures in the brine 

That season'd woe had pelleted in tears, 

And often reading what contents it bears ; 

As often shrieking undistinguish'd woe, 20 

In clamours of all size, both high and low. 

Sometimes her levell'd eyes their carriage ride, 
As they did battery to the spheres intend ; 
Sometime diverted their poor balls are tied 
To the orbed earth ; sometimes they do extend 
Their view right on ; anon their gazes lend 
To every place at once, and, nowhere fix'd, 
The mind and sight distractedly commix'd. 

Her hair, nor loose nor tied in formal plat, 

Proclaim'd in her a careless hand of pride, 30 

For some, untuck'd, descended her sheav'd hat, 

Hanging her pale and pined cheek beside ; 

Some in her threaden fillet still did bide, 

And true to bondage would not break from thence, 

Though slackly braided in loose negligence. 

A thousand favours from a maund she drew 

Of amber, crystal, and of beaded jet, 

Which one by one she in a river threw, 

Upon whose weeping m argent she was set; 

Like usury, applying wet to wet, 40 

Or monarch's hands that let not bounty fall 

Where want cries some, but where excess begs all. 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 



147 



Of folded schedules had she many a one, 

Which she perus'd, sigh'd, tore, and gave the flood ; 

Crack'd many a ring of posied gold and bone, 

Bidding them find their sepulchres in mud ; 

Found yet moe letters sadly penn'd in blood, 

With sleided silk feat and affectedly 

Enswath'd, and seal'd to curious secrecy. 

These often bath'd she in her fluxive eyes, 50 

And often kiss'd, and often gan to tear: 

Cried ' O false blood, thou register of lies, 

What unapproved witness dost thou bear ! 

Ink would have seem'd more black and damned here !' 

This said, in top of rage the lines she rents, 

Big discontent so breaking their contents. 

A reverend man that graz'd his cattle nigh — 

Sometime a blusterer, that the ruffle knew 

Of court, of city, and had let go by 

The swiftest hours, observed as they flew — 60 

Towards this afflicted fancy fastly drew, 

And, privileg'd by age, desires to know 

In brief the grounds and motives of her woe. 

So slides he down upon his grained bat, 

And comely-distant sits he by her side, 

When he again desires her, being sat, 

Her grievance with his hearing to divide ; 

If that from him there may be aught applied 

Which may her suffering ecstasy assuage, 

'Tis promis'd in the charity of age. 70 

' Father,' she says, ' though in me you behold 
The injury of many a blasting hour, 
Let it not tell your judgment I am old ; 
Not age, but sorrow, over me hath power : 
I might as yet have been a spreading flower, 



I4 8 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Fresh to myself, if I had self-applied 
Love to myself and to no love beside. 

* But, woe is me ! too early I attended 
A youthful suit — it was to gain my grace — 
Of one by nature's outwards so commended, 
That maidens' eyes stuck over all his face ; 
Love lack'd a dwelling and made him her place, 
And when in his fair parts she did abide, 
She was new lodg'd and newly deified. 

' His browny locks did hang in crooked curls, 
And every light occasion of the wind 
Upon his lips their silken parcels hurls. 
What 's sweet to do, to do will aptly find ; 
Each eye that saw him did enchant the mind, 
For on his visage was in little drawn 
What largeness thinks in Paradise was sawn. 

1 Small show of man was yet upon his chin; 

His phoenix down began but to appear 

Like unshorn velvet on that termless skin 

Whose bare out-bragg'd the web it seem'd to wear : 

Yet show'd his visage by that cost more dear, 

And nice affections wavering stood in doubt 

If best were as it was, or best without. 

' His qualities were beauteous as his form, 

For maiden-tongued he was, and thereof free; 

Yet, if men mov'd him, was he such a storm 

As oft 'twixt May and April is to see, 

When winds breathe sweet, unruly though they be. 

His rudeness so with his authoriz'd youth 

Did livery falseness in a pride of truth. . 

' Well could he ride, and often men would say 
" That horse his mettle from his rider takes ; 
Proud of subjection, noble by the sway, 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 



149 



What rounds, what bounds, what course, what stop he 

makes !" 
And controversy hence a question takes, no 

Whether the horse by him became his deed, 
Or he his manage by the well-doing steed. 

' But quickly on this side the verdict went : 

His real habitude gave life and grace 

To appertainings and to ornament, 

Accomplish'd in himself, not in his case. 

All aids, themselves made fairer by their place, 

Came for additions; yet their purpos'd trim 

Piec'd not his grace, but were all grac'd by him. 

' So on the tip of his subduing tongue 120 

All kind of arguments and question deep, 

All replication prompt and reason strong, 

For his advantage still did wake and sleep: 

To make the weeper laugh, the laugher weep, 

He had the dialect and different skill, 

Catching all passions in his craft of will ; 

'That he did in the general bosom reign 

Of young, of old, and sexes both enchanted, 

To dwell with him in thoughts, or to remain 

In personal duty, following where he haunted : 130 

Consents bewitch'd, ere he desire, have granted, 

And dialogued for him what he would say, 

Ask'd their own wills, and made their wills obey. 

1 Many there were that did his picture get, 

To serve their eyes, and in it put their mind; 

Like fools that in the imagination set 

The goodly objects which abroad they find 

Of lands and mansions, theirs in thought assign'd, 

And labouring in moe pleasures to bestow them 

Than the true gouty landlord which doth owe them : 140 



150 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

' So many have, that never touch'd his hand, 
Sweetly suppos'd them mistress of his heart. 
My woeful self, that did in freedom stand, 
And was my own fee-simple, not in part, 
What with his art in youth, and youth in art, 
Threw my affections in his charmed power, 
Reserv'd the stalk and gave him all my flower. 

'Yet did I not, as some my equals did, 

Demand of him, nor being desired yielded ; 

Finding myself in honour so forbid, i S o 

With safest distance I mine honour shielded: 

Experience for me many bulwarks builded 

Of proofs new-bleeding, which remain'd the foil 

Of this false jewel, and his amorous spoil. 

' But, ah, who ever shunn'd by precedent 

The destin'd ill she must herself assay? 

Or forc'd examples, 'gainst her own content, 

To put the by-past perils in her way ? 

Counsel may stop awhile what will not stay ; 

For when we rage, advice is often seen 160 

By blunting us to make our wits more keen. 

* Nor gives it satisfaction to our blood, 
That we must curb it upon others' proof; 
To be forbod the sweets that seem so good, 
For fear of harms that preach in our behoof. 
O appetite, from judgment stand aloof! 
The one a palate hath that needs will taste, 
Though Reason weep, and cry "It is thy last." 

'For further I could say "This man 's untrue," 
And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling, i 7 o 

Heard where his plants in others' orchards grew, 
Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling, 
Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling, 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. I5I 

Thought characters and words merely but art, 
And bastards of his foul adulterate heart. 

' And long upon these terms I held my city, 

Till thus he gan besiege me : " Gentle maid, 

Have of my suffering youth some feeling pity, 

And be not of my holy vows afraid : 

That 's to ye sworn to none was ever said ; 180 

For feasts of love I have been call'd unto, 

Till now did ne'er invite, nor never woo. 

' " All my offences that abroad you see 

Are errors of the blood, none of the mind ; 

Love made them not : with acture they may be, 

Where neither party is nor true nor kind. 

They sought their shame that so their shame did find ; 

And so much less of shame in me remains, 

By how much of me their reproach contains. 

' " Among the many that mine eyes have seen, 190 

Not one whose flame my heart so much as warm'd, 

Or my affection put to the smallest teen, 

Or any of my leisures ever charm'd ; 

Harm have I done to them but ne'er was harm'd ; 

Kept hearts in liveries but mine own was free, 

And reign'd, commanding in his monarchy. 

•' " Look here, what tributes wounded fancies sent me, 

Of paled pearls and rubies red as blood ; 

Figuring that they their passions likewise lent me 

Of grief and blushes, aptly understood ?oo 

In bloodless white and the encrimson'd mood ; 

Effects of terror and dear modesty, 

Encamp'd in hearts, but fighting outwardly. 

'" And, lo, behold these talents of their hair, 
With twisted metal amorously impleach'd, 
I have receiv'd from many a several fair, 



^52 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Their kind acceptance weepingly beseech'd, 
With the annexions of fair gems enrich'd, 
And deep-brain'd sonnets that did amplify 
Each stone's dear nature, worth, and quality. 

' " The diamond, — why, 't was beautiful and hard, 

Whereto his invis'd properties did tend ; 

The deep-green emerald, in whose fresh regard 

Weak sights their sickly radiance do amend ; 

The heaven-hued sapphire and the opal blend 

With objects manifold : each several stone, 

With wit well blazon'd, smil'd or made some moan. 

' " Lo, all these trophies of affections hot, 
Of pensiv'd and subdued desires the tender, 
Nature hath charg'd me that I hoard them not, 
But yield them up where I myself must render, 
That is, to you, my origin and ender ; 
For these, of force, must your oblations be, 
Since I their altar, you enpatron me. 

' " O, then, advance of yours that phraseless hand, 
Whose white weighs down the airy scale of praise; 
Take all these similes to your own command, 
Hallow'd with sighs that burning lungs did raise : 
What me your minister, for you obeys, 
Works under you; and to your audit comes 
Their distract parcels in combined sums. 

' " Lo, this device was sent me from a nun, 
A sister sanctified, of holiest note, 
Which late her noble suit in court did shun, 
Whose rarest havings made the blossoms dote ; 
For she was sought by spirits of richest coat, 
But kept cold distance, and did thence remove, 
To spend her living in eternal love. 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. I53 

' " But, O my sweet, what labour is 't to leave 

The thing we have not, mastering what not strives, 240 

Paling the place which did no form receive, 

Playing patient sports in unconstrained gyves? 

She that her fame so to herself contrives, 

The scars of battle scapeth by the flight, 

And makes her absence valiant, not her might. 

' " O, pardon me, in that my boast is true; 

The accident which brought me to her eye 

Upon the moment did her force subdue, 

And now she would the caged cloister fly : 

Religious love put out Religion's eye ; 250 

Not to be tempted, would she be immur'd, 

And now, to tempt, all liberty procur'd. 

'" How mighty then you are, O, hear me tell ! 

The broken bosoms that to me belong 

Have emptied all their fountains in my well, 

And mine I pour your ocean all among • 

I strong o'er them, and you o'er me being strong, 

Must for your victory us all congest, 

As compound love to physic your cold breast. 

' " My parts had power to charm a sacred nun, 260 

Who, disciplin'd, ay, dieted in grace, 

Believ'd her eyes when they to assail begun, 

All vows and consecrations giving place; 

O most potential love ! vow, bond, nor space, 

In thee hath neither sting, knot, nor confine, 

For thou art all, and all things else are thine. 

' " When thou impressest, what are precepts worth 
Of stale example ? When thou wilt inflame, 
How coldly those impediments stand forth 
Of wealth, of filial fear, law, kindred, fame ! 270 

Love's arms are proof, 'gainst rule, 'gainst sense, 'gainst 
shame, 



*54 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears, 
The aloes of all forces, shocks, and fears. 

' " Now all these hearts that do on mine depend, 

Feeling it break, with bleeding groans they pine ; 

And supplicant their sighs to you extend, 

To leave the battery that you make 'gainst mine, 

Lending soft audience to my sweet design, 

And credent soul to that strong-bonded oath 

That shall prefer and undertake my troth." **° 

'This said, his watery eyes he did dismount, 
Whose sights till then were levelPd on my face ; 
Each cheek a river running from a fount 
With brinish current downward flow'd apace : 
O, how the channel to the stream gave grace ! 
Who glaz'd with crystal gate the glowing roses 
That flame through water which their hue encloses. 

' O father, what a hell of witchcraft lies 

In the small orb of one particular tear! 

But with the inundation of the eyes 290 

What rocky heart to water will not wear ? 

What breast so cold that is not warmed here? 

O cleft effect ! cold modesty, hot wrath, 

Both fire from hence and chill extincture hath. 

' For, lo, his passion, but an art of craft, 

Even there resolv'd my reason into tears ; 

There my white stole of chastity I daff'd, 

Shook off my sober guards and civil fears ; 

Appear to him, as he to me appears, 

All melting ; though our drops this difference bore, 300 

His poison'd me, and mine did him restore. 

' In him a plenitude of subtle matter, 
Applied to cautels, all strange forms receives, 
Of burning blushes, or of weeping water, 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 155 

Or swooning paleness ; and he takes and leaves, 
In either's aptness, as it best deceives, 
To blush at speeches rank, to weep at woes, 
Or to turn white and swoon at tragic shows : 

' That not a heart which in his level came 

Could scape the hail of his all-hurting aim, 310 

Showing fair nature is both kind and tame, 

And, veil'd in them, did win whom he would maim : 

Against the thing he sought he would exclaim ; 

When he most burn'd in heart-wish'd luxury, 

He preach'd pure maid and prais'd cold chastity. 

' Thus merely with the garment of a Grace 

The naked and concealed fiend he cover'd ; 

That the unexperient gave the tempter place, 

Which like a cherubin above them hover'd. 

Who, young and simple, would not be so lover'd ? 320 

Ay me ! I fell ; and yet do question make 

What I should do again for such a sake. 

' O, that infected moisture of his eye, 
O, that false fire which in his cheek so glow'd, 
O, that forc'd thunder from his heart did fly, 
O, that sad breath his spongy lungs bestow'd, 
O, all that borrow'd motion seeming owed, 
Would yet again betray the fore-betray'd, 
And new pervert a reconciled maid !' 





THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 



Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook 

With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green, 

Did court the lad with many a lovely look, 

Such looks as none could look but beauty's queen. 

She told him stories to delight his ear; 

She show'd him favours to allure his eye ; 

To win his heart, she touch'd him here and there,- 

Touches so soft still conquer chastity. 

But whether unripe years did want conceit, 

Or he refus'd to take her figur'd proffer, 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 



*57 



The tender nibbler would not touch the bait, 
But smile and jest at every gentle offer: 

Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward ; 

He rose and ran away — ah, fool too froward ! 

II. 

Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn, 

And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade, 

When Cytherea, all in love forlorn, 

A longing tarriance for Adonis made 

Under an osier growing by a brook, 

A brook where Adon us'd to cool his spleen : 

Hot was the day ; she hotter that did look 

For his approach, that often there had been. 

Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by, 

And stood stark naked on the brook's green brim ; 

The sun look'd on the world with glorious eye, 

Yet not so wistly as this queen on him. 

He, spying her, bounc'd in, whereas he stood ; 

' O Jove,' quoth she, ' why was not I a flood !' 

III. 

Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love, 
* * # # * # * 

Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove, 
For Adon's sake, a youngster proud and wild. 
Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill : 
Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds ; 
She, silly queen, with more than love's good will, 
Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds. 
' Once,' quoth she, ' did I see a fair sweet youth 
Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar, 
Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth ! 
See, in my thigh,' quoth she, ' here was the sore.' 
She showed hers ; he saw more wounds than one, 
And blushing fled, and left her all alone. 



i58 



SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

IV. 

Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle ; 

Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty ; 

Brighter than glass, and yet, as glass is, brittle ; 

Softer than wax, and yet, as iron, rusty : 
A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her, 
None fairer, nor none falser to deface her. 

Her lips to mine how often hath she joined, 
Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing ! 
How many tales to please me hath she coined, 
Dreading my love, the loss thereof still fearing ! * 

Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings, 
Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings. 

She burn'd with love, as straw with fire flameth ; 
She burn'd out love, as soon as straw out-burneth ; 
She fram'd the love, and yet she foil'd the framing; 
She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning. 

Was this a lover, or a lecher whether ? 

Bad in the best, though excellent in neither. 

V. 

Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck'd, soon vaded, 

Pluck'd in the bud, and vaded in the spring ! 

Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded ! 

Fair creature, kilPd too soon by death's sharp sting ! 
Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree, 
And falls, through wind, before the fall should be. 

I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have ; 

For why, thou left'st me nothing in thy will : 

And yet thou left'st me more than I did crave ; 

For why, I craved nothing of thee still : 
O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee, 
Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me. 



r 59 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 

VI. 
Crabbed age and youth cannot live together : 
Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care ; 
Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather ; 
Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare. 
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; 

Youth is nimble, age is lame ; 
Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold ; 

Youth is wild, and age is tame. 
Age, I do abhor thee ; youth, I do adore thee ; 

O, my love, my love is young ! i 

Age, I do defy thee : O, sweet shepherd, hie thee, 

For methinks thou stay'st too long. 

VII. 

Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good ; 

A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly; 

A flower that dies when first it gins to bud ; 

A brittle glass that's broken presently: 
A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower, 
Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour. 

And as goods lost are seld or never found, 
As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh, 
As flowers dead lie wither'd on the ground, 
As broken glass no cement can redress, i 

So beauty blemish'd once 's for ever lost, 
In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost. 

VIII. 

Good night, good rest. Ah, neither be my share; 

She bade good night that kept my rest away, 

And daffd me to a cabin hang'd with care, 

To descant on the doubts of my decay. 

' Farewell,' quoth she, ■ and come again to-morrow :' 
Fare well I could not, for I supp'd with sorrow. 



iSo SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile, 

In scorn or friendship, nill I construe whether; 

'T may be, she joy'd to jest at my exile, 

'T may be, again to make me wander thither: 10 

' Wander,' a word for shadows like myself, 
As take the pain, but cannot pluck the pelf. 

IX 

Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east ! 

My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise 

Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest. 

Not daring trust the office of mine eyes, 

While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark, 
And wish her lays were tuned like the lark ; 

For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty, 

And drives away dark dismal-dreaming night : 

The night so pack'd, I post unto my pretty; 

Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight ; 10 

Sorrow chang'd to solace, solace mix'd with sorrow; 

For why, she sigh'd and bade me come to-morrow. 

Were I with her, the night would post too soon ; 
But now are minutes added to the hours ; 
To spite me now, each minute seems a moon ; 
Yet not for me, shine sun to succour flowers ! 

Pack night, peep day ; good day, of night now bor- 
row : 

Short, night, to-night, and length thyself to-morrow. 

X. 

Whenas thine eye hath chose the dame, 
And stalPd the deer that thou shouldst strike, 
Let reason rule things worthy blame, 
As well as partial fancy like ; 

Take counsel of some wiser head, 

Neither too young nor yet unwed. 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 161 

And when thou com'st thy tale to tell, 
Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk, 
Lest she some subtle practice smell, — 
A cripple soon can find a halt ; — k> 

But plainly say thou lov'st her well, 

And set her person forth to sell. 

What though her frowning brows be bent, 
Her cloudy looks will clear ere night; 
And then too late she will repent 
That thus dissembled her delight, 

And twice desire, ere it be day, 

That which with scorn she put away. 

What though she strive to try her strength, 

And ban and brawl, and say thee nay, 20 

Her feeble force will yield at length, 

When craft hath taught her thus to say, 

' Had women been so strong as men, 

In faith, you had not had it then.' 

And to her will frame all thy ways ; 
Spare not to spend, and chiefly there 
Where thy desert may merit praise, 
By ringing in thy lady's ear : 

The strongest castle, tower, and town, 

The golden bullet beats it down. 30 

Serve always with assured trust, 
And in thy suit be humble-true ; 
Unless thy lady prove unjust, 
Press never thou to choose anew: 

When time shall serve,, be thou not slack 

To proffer, though she put thee back. 

The wiles and guiles that women work, 
Dissembled with an outward show, 
The tricks and toys that in them lurk, 
L 



!6 2 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

The cock that treads them shall not know. 
Have you not heard it said full oft, 
A woman's nay doth stand for nought? 

Think women still to strive with men, 
To sin and never for to saint : 
Here is no heaven ; be holy then, 
When time with age shall thee attaint. 
Were kisses all the joys in bed, 
One woman would another wed. 

But, soft! enough — too much, I fear — 
Lest that my mistress hear my song; 
She will not stick to round me i' the ear, 
To teach my tongue to be so long : 
Yet will she blush, here be it said, 
To hear her secrets so bewray'd. 





THE PHCENIX AND THE TURTLE. 

Let the bird of loudest lay, 

On the sole Arabian tree, 

Herald sad and trumpet be, 

To whose sound chaste wings obey. 

But thou shrieking harbinger, 
Foul precurrer of the fiend, 
Augur of the fever's end, 
To this troop come thou not near ! 



From this session interdict 
Every fowl of tyrant wing, 
Save the eagle, feather'd king ; 
Keep the obsequy so strict. 



1 64 SHAKESPEARE'S POEMS. 

Let the priest in surplice white, 
That defunctive music can, 
Be the death-divining swan, 
Lest the requiem lack his right. 

And thou treble-dated crow, 
That thy sable gender mak'st 
With the breath thou giv'st and tak'st, 
'Mongst our mourners shalt thou go. 

Here the anthem doth commence : 
Love and constancy is dead ; 
Phcenix and the turtle fled 
In a mutual flame from hence. 

So they lov'd, as love in twain 
Had the essence but in one ; 
Two distincts, division none : 
Number there in love was slain. 

Hearts remote, yet not asunder ; 
Distance, and no space was seen 
'Twixt the turtle and his queen : 
But in them it were a wonder. 

So between them love did shine 
That the turtle saw his right 
Flaming in the phcenix' sight ; 
Either was the other's mine. 

Property was thus appall'd, 
That the self was not the same ; 
Single nature's double name 
Neither two nor one was call'd. 

Reason, in itself confounded, 
Saw division grow together, 
To themselves yet either neither, 
Simple were so well compounded, 



THE PHCENIX AND THE TURTLE. ^ 

That it cried, How true a twain 
Seemeth this concordant one ! 
Love hath reason, reason none, 
If what parts can so remain. 

Whereupon it made this threne 

To the phoenix and the dove, 50 

Co-supremes and stars of love, 

As chorus to their tragic scene. 

THRENOS. 

Beauty, truth, and rarity, 
Grace in all simplicity, 
Here enclos'd in cinders lie. 

Death is now the phoenix' nest ; 
And the turtle's loyal breast 
To eternity doth rest, 

Leaving no posterity: 

'T was not their infirmity, 60 

It was married chastity. 

Truth may seem, but cannot be; 
Beauty brag, but 't is not she ; 
Truth and beauty buried be. 

To this urn let those repair 
That are either true or fair ; 
For these dead birds sigh a prayer. 





Good night, good rest {P. P. 8. i). 



NOTES. 



ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 

Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (third edition). 
A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 

A. V., Authorized Version of the Bible (1611). 

B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
B. J., Ben Jonson. 

Camb. ed., " Cambridge edition" of Shakespeare, edited by Clark and Wright. 
Cf. {confer), compare. 
Coll., Collier (second edition). 
D., Dyce (second edition). 

Et al. , and other eds. (that is, following or later ones). 
H., Hudson (" Harvard" edition). 
Halliwell, J. O. Halliwell (folio ed. of Shakespeare). 
Id. {idem), the same. 
K., Knight (second edition). 

Nares, Glossary, edited by Halliwell and Wright (London, 1859). 
Prol., Prologue. 
S., Shakespeare. 

Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 
Sr., Singer. 
St., Staunton. 
Theo., Theobald. 
W., R. Grant White. 

Walker, Wm. Sidney Walker's Critical Examination of the Text of Shakespeare 
(London, i860). 
Warb., Warburton. 

Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). 
Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 

The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare' s Plays will be readily understood ; as 
T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of King 
Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim. ; V. and A . to Venus 
and Adonis ; L. C. tb Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 

When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. 

The numbers of the lines (except for The Passionate Pilgrim) are those of the 
" Globe " ed. 



NOTES. 




THE FLIGHT OF TARQUIN. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 

The Early Editions. — Richard Field, the printer of the first ed. 
(see p. 9 above) was a native of Stratford, and the son of the Henry 
Field whose goods John Shakespeare was employed to value in 1592. 
He adopted the device of an anchor, with the motto " Anchora spei," 
because they had been used by his father-in-law, Thomas Vautrollier, a 
celebrated and learned printer, who resided in Blackfriars, and to whose 
business, at his death in 1589, Field succeeded. 

The poem was licensed by the Archbishop of Canterbury (Whitgift), 
and entered in the Stationers' Register, April 18, 1593. 

The second edition, likewise printed and published by Field, must 
have been brought out early in 1594, as the transfer of the copyright 



l7o NOTES. 

from Field to Harrison is recorded as having taken place on the 25th of 
June in that year. 

The third edition was printed by Field, though published by Harrison, 
and must have appeared before June, 1596, when Harrison transferred 
the copyright to Leake. 

It is probable that there were editions between this of 1596 and that 
of 1599. The poem had evidently been very popular, and it would be 
strange if Leake did not issue an edition until three years after he had 
secured the copyright. When we consider that of the 1st, 4th, 5th, and 
10th* eds. only single copies have come down to our day, of the 3d, 6th, 
and 9th, only two copies each, and of the 2d only three copies, it is not 
unreasonable to suppose that of some editions not a single copy has sur- 
vived. It is also probable that there were editions between 1602 and 
1627, when the poem was reprinted in Edinburgh. . 

It has been suggested that the book may have fallen under the ban of 
the Privy Council. A decree of the Star Chamber, dated June 23, 1585, 
gave unlimited power to the ecclesiastical authorities to seize and de- 
stroy whatever books they thought proper. A notable instance of this 
interference with books already printed occurred in 1599, at Stationers' 
Hall, when a number of objectionable works were burned, and special 
admonitions given then and there to the printers, some of the most em- 
inent of the time, and among them our friend Richard Field (Edmonds). 

That the poem was considered somewhat objectionable even in that 
day is evident from certain contemporaneous references to it. Halliwell 
{Outlines, etc., p. 221) quotes A Mad World my Masters, 1608 : " I have 
convay'd away all her wanton pamphlets, as Hero and Leander, Venus 
and Adonis ;" and Sir John Davies, who in his Papers Complaint (found 
in his Scourge of Folly, 1610) makes "Paper" admit the superlative ex- 
cellence of Shakespeare's poem, but at the same time censure its being 
" attired in such bawdy geare." It is also stated that " the coyest dames 
in private read it for their closset-games." In The Dumbe Knight, 1608, 
the lawyer's clerk refers to it as " maides philosophic ;" and the stanza 
beginning with line 229 is quoted both in that play and in Heywood's 
Fayre Mayde of the Exchange, 1607. . 

The Dedication. — For the Earl of Southampton, see p. 36, foot- 
note, above. For a much fuller account, with the many poetical trib- 
utes paid him, see the Var. of 1821, vol. xx. pp. 427-468. 

8. Ear. Plough, till. See Rich. II. p. 192. 

\o. Your honour. Your lordship. Cf. T. of ^. p. 137. 

Venus and Adonis. — 3. Rose-cheek' d Adonis. Marlowe applies the 
same epithet to the youth in his Hero and Leander : 

"The men of wealthy Sestos every year, 
For his sake whom their goddess held so dear, 
Rose-cheek' d Adonis, kept a solemn feast." 

* This is true of both the ed. known to have been published in 1630 and the one in 
the Bodleian ascribed to that year. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. l7r 

6. Gins. H. and some others print "'gins ;" but see Macb. p. 153. 

9. Stain to all nymphs. That is, by eclipsing them. Cf. I Hen. VI. 
iv. 1. 45. 

10. Doves or roses. Farmer conjectures "and" for or ; but the latter 
is doubtless what S. wrote. 

11. With herself at strife. Cf. 291 below. See also T. of A. p. 135, 
note on 39. 

16. Honey. For the adjective use, cf. 452 and 538 below. 

19. Satiety. The first four eds. * and the 10th have "sacietie." 

20. Famish them, etc. Cf. A. atid C. ii. 2. 241 : 

"Other women cloy 
The appetites they feed ; but she makes hungry 
Where most she satisfies." 

25. His sweating palm. Steevens quotes A. and C. i. 2. 53 : "Nay, if 
an oily palm be not a fruitful prognostication," etc. See also 143 below, 
and Oth. iii. 4. 36 fol. 

26. Pith. Vigour. Cf. Hen. V. p. 162. 

32. Her other. The 5th and later eds. have "the other." 
40. Prove. Try ; as in 608 below. 

53. Miss. Misbehaviour. Malone and others print "'miss." 

54. Murthers. The 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th eds. have "murthers," the 
others "smothers." 

55. Empty eagle. We have the same expression in 2 Hen. VI iii. 1. 
248 and 3 Hen. VI i. 1. 268. 

56. Tires. Tears and feeds ravenously upon. Cf. Cymb. p. 195. 

61. Forc'd to content. " Forced to content himself in a situation from 
which he had no means of escaping" (Steevens). 

62. Breatheth. The reading of the first three eds. ; " breathing " in the 
4th and the rest. 

66. Such distilling. Walker would read "such-distilling." 

71. Rank. Exuberant, high. Cf. the use of the noun in K. John, v. 4. 54 : 

"And, like a bated and retired flood, 
Leaving our rankness and irregular course, 
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd." 

76. Ashy-pale. Malone at first made this refer to Adonis, but subse- 
quently saw that it goes with anger. 

78. More. Cf. R. of I. 332 : " A more rejoicing," etc. Gr. 17. 

82. Take truce. Make peace. Cf. K. John, iii. 1. 17 : " With my vex'd 
spirits I cannot take a truce," etc. The 4th ed. has "takes truce." 

* The 4th of the early eds., or that of 1599 (see p. 10 above) is not collated in the 
Camb. ed. or any other ed. known to us. We have had the opportunity of consulting 
the fac-simile reprint in the Harvard library, and have noted all the variations that seem 
worth mentioning in an edition like this. For misprints not found in any other early 
ed. (or at least not recorded in the Camb. ed.) see on 82, 313, 350, 365, 506, 655, 700, 
704, 754, 868, 901, 969, 1002, 1073, 1136, 1143, 1168, etc. Of course the 5th ed. of our 
numbering is the 4th of the Camb. ed., our 6th is their 5th, and so on. The dated ed. 
of 1630 (see p. ir above) is not collated in any ed., and has not been reprinted. We 
have therefore omitted it in the numbering of the early eds. For the readings of all 
these eds. except the 4th we have depended on the Camb. ed. 



172 



NOTES. 



90. Winks. Shuts his eyes; as in 121 below. 

91. Passenger. Wayfarer; the only sense in S. Cf. T. G. of K iv. 1. 
1, 72, v. 4. 15, etc. 

94. Yet her. The reading of the first four eds. ; the rest have " Yet in." 
97. / have been wooed, etc. For other allusions to the loves of Mars 
and Venus, see Temp. iv. 1. 98, A. and C. i. 5. 18, etc. 

106. To toy. All the early eds., except the 1st and 2d, have " To coy." 
109. He that overruVd. For he— him, see Gr. 207. 

1 18. /;/ the ground. That is, on it. Cf. M. N. D. ii. 1. 85, etc. 

119. There. Changed to "where " in the 4th and later eds. 

123. There are. The reading of the 1st ed. ; " there be " in the rest, 
except the 10th, which has "they be." 

126. Nor know not. The 5th and later eds. read " nor know they." 

133. Hard-favour d. Hard-featured, ill-looking ; as in 931 below. The 
hyphen in wrinkled-old is due to Malone. 

134. Ill-iturtur'd. Ill-bred ; used again in 2 Hen. VI. i. 2. 42 : " Pre- 
sumptuous dame, ill-nurtur'd Eleanor," etc. 

135. CPer-wom. Cf. Rich. III. i. 1. 81 : "The jealous, o'er-worn wid- 
ow," etc. In 866 below, the word is used of time =spent. 

140. Grey. Explained by Malone, H., and others as —blue ; but see 
R. and J. p. 172. 

142. Plump. The 4th ed. has " plumbe ;" the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, and 
ioth (according to the Camb. ed.) have "plum." 

143. Moist hand. See on 25 above. 

148. No footing seen. Malone quotes Temp. v. I. 34 : 

"And ye that on the sands with printless feet 
Do chase the ebbing Neptune," etc 

149. Compact of fire. Cf. M. N. D. v. 1. 8 : " of imagination all com- 
pact ;" A. Y. L. ii. 7. 5 : "compact of jars," etc. 

150. Not gross to sink, etc. Cf. C. of E. iii. 2. 52 : "Let Love, being 
light, be drowned if she sink ;" and see our ed. p. 128. 

152. These. Changed to " the " in the 5th and following eds. 

153. Doves. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 94, where Venus is referred to as "dove- 
drawn." See also 1190 below, and R.and J. p. 177. 

160. Complai7i on. The 3d and subsequent eds. have "complain of." 
See Gr. 181, and cf. 544 below. 

161. Narcissus. Cf. R. of L. 265 and A. and C. ii. 5. 96. 

168. To themselves. For themselves alone, " without producing fruit or 
benefiting mankind " (Malone). Cf. 1 180 below. 

Wast. The 4th and later eds. have " wert." 

177. Titan. The sun ; as in T. and C. v. 10. 25, R. and J. ii. 3. 4, 
Cymb. iii. 4. 166, etc. 

Tired is explained by Boswell as =attired ; and Schmidt favours that 
explanation. Cf. L. L. I. iv. 2. 131 : " the tired horse ;" and see our ed. 
p. 147. Coll. prints " 'tired." 

181. Spright. Spirit. Cf. R. of L. 121. The word is often monosyl- 
labic when printed spirit. Gr. 463. 

193. Shines but warm. "Affords only a natural and genial heat; it 
warms but it does not burn " (Malone). 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 



*73 



199. Obdurate. Accented on the second syllable, as elsewhere in S. 
Cf. R, of L. 429, M. of V. iv. 1. 8, etc. 

203. Hard. The reading of the 1st ed. ; "bad" in all the rest. 

204. Unkind. Leaving none of her kind, or race ; childless. Malone 
explains it as "unnatural." Cf. Lear, p. 176. 

205. Contemn ?ne this. "Contemptuously refuse this favour" (Ma- 
lone). The 10th ed. has " thus " for this, and Steeveiis was inclined to 
that reading. " Thus and kiss," he says, "correspond in sound as well 
as unlikely and quickly, adder and shudder, which we meet with after- 
wards." 

211. Lifeless. The early eds. have "liuelesse," except the 4th, which 
has "liueles." 

222. Intendments. Intentions. Cf. A. Y. L. p. 139. S. uses the word 
four times, intention only twice. 

229. Fondling. Darling ; used by S. only here. 

230. Pale. Enclosure ; as in C. of E. ii. 1. 100, etc. 

231. A park. The 3d and following eds. have "the parke." 
242. 7 'hat. So that. Gr. 283. Cf. 599, 830, and 1 140 below. 

247. These roicnd. Changed in the 5th and later eds. to " those round." 

257. Remorse. Pity, tenderness. Cf. Rich. III. p. 221, note on 210. 

272. Compassed. Curved, arched. In T. and C. i. 2. 120, " compassed 
window" =bow-window, and in T. ofS. iv. 3. 140, "compassed cape" = 
round cape. 

Stand is the reading of the first four eds. ; changed in the later ones to 
"stands." Mane "as composed of many hairs" (Malone) is here used 
as a plural. 

275. Scornfully glisters. Some editors follow Sewell in transposing 
these words. On glisters, see M. of V. p. 145. 

277. Told. Counted ; as in 520 below. Cf. Temp. p. 123. 

279. Leaps. Malone infers from the rhyme that the word was pro- 
nounced leps, as it still is in Ireland ; but it is hardly safe to draw an 
inference from a single rhyme. In Sonn. 128. 5, we have leap rhymed 
with reap. 

281. This I do. The 4th and later eds. have "thus I do." 

295. Round-hoof d, etc. See p. 32 above. 

296. Eye. Changed to "eyes " in the 5th and following eds. 

301. Sometime. The 8th, 9th, nth, and 12th eds. have " Sometimes." 
The words were used by S. interchangeably. 

303. To bid the wind a base. To challenge the wind to a race. See 
Cymb. p. 213, note on Base. 

304. And 'whether. The early eds. have " And where." Malone prints 
" And whe'r." See J. C. p. 128, note on Whe'r. Gr. 466. 

306. Who. The 10th ed. "corrects" this to "which." See Gr. 264. 

312. E??ibracements. Cf. 790 below. S. uses the word oftener than 
emb)-ace (noun), though in this poem the latter is found three times (539, 
811, 874), or as many times as in all his other works. 

313. Malcontent. The 4th ed. has "male content." 

314. Vails. Lowers ; as in 956 below. See M. of V. p. 128. 

315. Buttock. Changed to the plural in the 4th and following eds. 



i74 



NOTES. 



319. Goeth about. Attempts. Cf. R. of L. 412; and see M. N. D. 
p. 177. 

325. Chafing. The 4th, 5th, 7th, and 10th eds. have "chasing." For 
chafe, see J. C. p. 131. 

326. Banning. Cursing. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 319: "to curse and 
ban," etc. 

334. Fire. A dissyllable ; as not unfrequently. The first three eds. 
print it "fier;" as they do in 402 below, where it is a monosyllable. 
Sewell reads " doth oft." 

335. The hearts attorney. That is, the tongue. Steevens aptly quotes 
Rich. III. iv. 4. 127 : 

'•'•Duchess- Why should calamity be full of words? 
' Queen Elizabeth. Windy attorneys to their client woes," etc. 

343. Wistly. Wistfully ; modifying came stealing, not viexv. Cf. R. of 
If. 1355 : "wistly on him gaz'd," etc. Schmidt makes it =" attentively, 
observingly, with scrutiny," in both passages. 

346. Hoxu white and red, etc. Steevens compares T. of S. iv. 5. 30 : 
" Such war of white and red within her cheeks !" 

350. Lozuly. The 4th ed. has " slowly." 

352. Cheek. Made plural in the 5th and later eds. In the next line 
the 4th and the rest read " cheeks (or " cheekes ") reuiues " or "cheekes 
receiue;" and all eds. except the 1st have "tender" for tenderer. 

359. His. Its. Gr. 228. The allusion is to the chorus, or interpreter, 
in a dumb-show, or pantomime. Cf. Ham. p. 228, note on Chorus. 

365. And unwilling. The 4th ed. has " and willing." 

367. The engine of her thoughts. That is, her tongue. On engine, cf. 
T. G. of V. p. 140. 

376. Grave. Engrave, impress. Schmidt makes it ="cut a little, 
wound slightly, graze." 

370. Thy heart my wound. " Thy heart wounded as mine is " (Ma- 
lone). 

388. Suffered. That is, allowed to burn. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iv. 8. 8 : 

"A little fire is quickly trodden out, 
Which, being suffer'd, rivers cannot quench." 

397. Sees. The 2d, 3d, and 4th eds. have " seekes." In her naked bed, 
as H. takes the trouble to inform us, means " naked in her bed." This 
rhetorical transference of an epithet is familiar to every schoolboy. Cf. 
" idle bed " {J. C. ii. 1, 1 1 7), " lazy bed " ( T. and C. i. 3. 147), " tired bed " 
{Lear, i. 2. 13), etc. So sick bed, etc. 

398. A whiter hue than white. Cf. Cymb. ii. 2. 14 : 

" How bravely thou becom'st thy bed, fresh lily, 
And whiter than the sheets!" 

and R. ofL. 472 : " Who o'er the white sheet peers her whiter chin." 

411. Owe. Own, possess. Cf. R. of L. 1803, etc. 

424. Alarms. Alarums, attacks. The 5th and later eds. have 
" alarme." The 4th has " alarum." 

429. Mermaid. Siren ; the usual meaning in S. Cf. 777 below. 

432. Ear's. Misprinted " Earths " in the 4th and later eds. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 175 

434. Invisible. Steevens conjectures "invincible;" but, as Malone re- 
marks, " an opposition is clearly intended between external beauty, of 
which the eye is the judge, and a melody of voice (which the poet calls 
inward beauty) striking not the sight, but the ear." 

436. Sensible. Endowed with sensibility, sensitive. Cf. L. L. L. p. 152. 

443. Siillitory. Alembic, still ; used by S. only here. Malone, H., 
and others print " still'tory." 

447. Might. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds.; "should" in the 
rest. 

448. And bid Suspicion, etc. Malone thinks that " a bolder or happier 
personification than this" is hardly to be found in Shakespeare's works ! 

454. Wrack. The regular form of the word in S. Cf. the rhymes in 
558 below, R. of L. 841, 965, etc. 

456. Flaws. Sudden gusts, or " squalls." Cf. Cor. p. 268, ox Ham. 
p. 264. 

462. Struck. Spelt "strucke," "stroake," "stroke," and "strooke" 
in the early eds. Cf. J. C. p. 146 (on Hath stricken) and p. 160 (on Struck- 
en by many princes). Gr. 344. 

466. Bankrupt. " Bankrout," "banckrout," or "banquerout" in the 
old eds. See R. and J. p. 187. H. adopts Walker's plausible conject- 
ure of " loss " for love. 

469. All ama£d. The 4th and later eds. have " in a maze." 

472. Fair fall, etc. May good luck befall, etc. Cf. K. John, p. 133. 

482. Blue windows. That is, eyelids. See R. and J. p. 172, note on 
Grey eye. 

484. Earth. All the early eds. except the 1st have "world." 

488. Shine. For the noun, cf. 728 below. See Per. p. 134. 

490. Repine. The only instance of the noun in S. The verb occurs 
only three times. 

492. Shone like the moon, etc. Malone compares L. L. L. iv. 3. 30 fol. 

497. Annoy. For the noun, cf. 599 below, R. of L. 1109, 1370, etc. 

500. Shrewd. Evil. Cf. Hen. VIII. p. 202, or J. C. p. 145. 

506. Their crimson liveries. Referring, of course, to the lips. The 
transition to verdure in the next line is curious, and the whole passage 
is a good example of the quaint " conceits " of the time. The allusion, 
as Malone remarks, is to the practice of strewing rooms with rue and 
other strong-smelling herbs as a means of preventing infection. The 
astrological allusion is also to be noted. Writ on death= predicted death 
by their horoscopes. The 4th ed. has " neither " for never. 

511. Sweet seals. Cf. M.for M.'w. 1.6; and see our ed. p. 160. 

515. Slips. A play on the word as applied to counterfeit coin. Cf. 
R. a?id y. p. 173, note on Gave us the counterfeit. 

519. Touches. " Kisses " in the 5th and following eds. 

520. Told. Counted; as in 277 above. 

521. Say, for non-payment, etc. "The poet was thinking of a condi- 
tional bond's becoming forfeited for non-payment ; in which case the en- 
tire penalty (usually the double of the principal sum lent by the obligee) 
was formerly recoverable at law" (Malone). 

524. Strangeness. Bashfulness, reserve. Cf. 310 above. 



176 NOTES. 

526. Fry. Or "small fry," as we still say. Cf, A. W. iv. 3. 250, Macb. 
iv. 2. 84, etc. 

529. The world's comforter. Cf. 799 below. 
540. Incorporate. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 208 : 

"As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, 
Had been incorporate. So we grew together,' 1 etc. 

544. Complain on. Cf. 160 above. 

550. The insulter. The exulting victor ; the only instance of the noun 
in S. For Insult =exn\t, cf. Sonn. 107. 12, 3 Hen. VI. i. 3. 14, etc. 

565. With tempering. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 140 : " I have him already 
tempering between my finger and my thumb, and shortly will I seal with 
him ;" and see our ed. p. 189. 

568. Leave. License. Cf. the play on the word in 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 34 : 

"Ay, good leave have you; for you will have leave 
Till youth take leave, and leave you to the crutch." 

570. Wooes. The 4th ed. has "woes." 

571. Had she then gave. Elsewhere S. has the participle given (usu- 
ally monosyllabic). It is a wonder that all the editors have let gave alone 
here. Cf. Gr. 343, 344. 

574. Prickles. The 5th and later eds. have "pricks," and "is it" for 
7 is. 

589. Pale. For the noun, cf. R. of L. 1512 and W. T iv. 3. 4. 

590. Like lawn, etc. Cf. R. of L. 258. 

591. Cheek. Made plural in the 4th ed. et al. See on 352 above. 
593. Hanging.-by. The 4th and later eds. have "hanging on." 
595. Lists of love. Steevens quotes Dryden, Don Sebastian .' : 

"The sprightly bridegroom on his wedding night 
More gladly enters not the lists of love." 

597. Prove. Experience. Cf. 608 below, and A. and C. i. 2. 33 : " You 
have seen and prov'd a fairer former fortune," etc. 

598. Manage. For the noun as applied to the training of a horse, see 
M. of V. p. 153. This is the only instance in S. of the verb similarly 
used. 

599. That. So that. See on 242 above. For the allusion to Tanta- 
lus, cf. R. ofL. 858. 

600. Clip. Embrace. Cf. Oth. p. 192. 

602. Pine. Starve. For the transitive use, cf. Rich. II. p. 210. 

604. Helpless. Affording no help, or sustenance. Cf. R. of L. 1027 and 
1056. See also Rich. III. p. 183. 

The allusion, as Malone notes, is to the celebrated picture of Zeuxis, 
mentioned by Pliny, in which some grapes were so well represented that 
birds came to peck them. Cf. Sir John Davies, Nosce Teipsum, 1599: 
"And birds of grapes the cunning shadow peck." 

612. Withhold. Detain, restrain ; as in Rich. Ill iii. I. 30, etc. 

615. Be advised. Take heed; as often. 

616. Churlish boar. Cf. T. and C. i. 2. 21 : " Churlish as the bear," etc. 
618. Mortal. Death-dealing ; as in 950 below. See also R. of L. 364, 

724, etc. Schmidt takes it to be here = human. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 177 

619. Battle. Battalion, host. Cf. Hen. V.p. 171. 

624. Crooked. The Var. of 1821 has "cruel;" apparently accidental, 
as it is given without comment. 

626. Proof. Defensive armour. Cf. Macb. p. 155, note on Lapped in 
proof. 

632. Eyes pay. The early eds. have " eyes (or " eies ") paies " (or 
" payes ") or " eie (or " eye ") paies " (or " payes ") ; corrected by Malone. 

Eytie. The old plural, used for the sake of the rhyme, as in R. of L. 
643, M. N. D. i. 1. 244, ii. 2. 99, iii. 2. 138, v. 1. 178, etc' In R. of L. 1229, 
it is not a rhyming word. 

639. Within his danger. Cf. M. of V. iv. 1. 180: ''You stand within 
his danger, do you not ?" T. N. v. 1. 87 : 

"for his sake 
Did I expose myself, pure for his love, 
Into the danger of this adverse town," etc. 

652. Kill, kill! The old English battle-cry in charging the enemy. 
Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 191, etc. 

655. Bate-breeding. Causing quarrel or contention. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. 
ii. 4. 271 : "breeds no bate with telling of discreet stories ;" and see our 
ed. p. 171. The 4th ed. has "bare-breeding." 

656. Canker. Canker-worm. See M. N. D. p. 150. Lovers tender 
spring— " the tender bud of growing love" (Malone). Cf. C. of E. iii. 
2. 3 : "Even in the spring of love thy love-springs rot." 

657. Carry-tale. Used again in L. L. L. v. 2. 463 : " Some carry- 
tale," etc. 

662. Angry-chafing. Fretting with rage. The hyphen was inserted 
by Malone. 

668. Imagination. Metrically six syllables. Gr. 479. For tremble, the 
3d and later eds. have "trembling." 

673. Uncouple. Set loose the hounds; as in M. A r . D. iv. 1. 112, etc. 

677. Fearful. Full of fear, timorous. Cf. 927 below ; and see J. C. 
p. 175, note on With fearful bravery. 

680. Overshoot. The early eds. have " ouer-shut " or " ouershut ;" 
corrected by D. (the conjecture of Steevens). 

682. Cranks. Turns, winds. Cf. I Hen. IV. iii. 1. 98: " See how this 
river comes me cranking in." 

683. Musits. Holes for creeping through. Cf. Two Noble Kinsmen, 

P- 175- 

684. Amaze. Bewilder. Cf. K. John, p. 166. 

694. Cold fault. Cold scent, loss of scent. Cf. T. of S. ind. I. 20 : 

" Saw'st thou not, boy, how Silver made it good 
At the hedge-corner, in the coldest fault ? 
I would not lose the dog for twenty pound." 

See our ed. p. 126. 

695. Spend their mouths. That is, bark ; a sportsman's expression. 
Cf. Hen. V. ii. 4. 70 : 

"for coward dogs 
Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten 
Runs far behind them." 

M 



I7 8 NOTES. 

697. Wat. " A familiar term among sportsmen for a hare ; why, does 
not appear. Perhaps for no better reason than Philip for a sparrow 
[cf. K. John, p. 137], Tom for a cat, and the like " (Nares). 

700. Their. The 4th ed. has "with." 

703. Wretch. On the use of the word as a term of pity or tenderness, 
see Oth. p. 183. 

On this whole passage, see p. 20 fol. above. 

704. Indenting. The 4th ed. has " intending." 

705. Envious. Malicious. See Rich. III. p. 187, or M. of V. p. 151. 
712. Myself. The 4th and following eds. have "thy selfe." 

724. True men thieves. The 1st and 2d eds. have " true-men theeves," 
the 3d "rich-men theeve," the rest "rich men theeves." On the use cf 
true men in opposition to thieves, see 1 Hen. IV. pp. 160, 168. 

726. Forsworn. " That is, having broken her vow of virginity " (Stee- 
vens). 

734. Curious. Careful, elaborate. Cf. A. W. i. 2. 20 : 

" Frank Nature, rather curious than in haste, 
Hath well compos'd thee." 

736. Defeature. Deformity ; as in C. of E. ii. 1. 98 and v. I. 299. 

738. Mad. " Sad " in the 5th and later eds. 

740. Wood. Mad, frantic. See I Hen. VI. p. 156, on Raging-wooa. 

743. Imposthumes. Abscesses. Cf. Ham. p. 245. 

746. Fight. The 5th and following eds. have "sight j" and in 748 the 
4th and the rest have " imperiall " for impartial. 

751. Fruitless. Barren. Cf. M. N. D. i. 1.73: "the cold fruitless 
moon," etc. 

754. Dearth. The 4th ed. has " death." 

755. The lamp, etc. " Ye nuns and vestals, says Venus, imitate the 
example of the lamp, that profiteth mankind at the expense of its own 
oil." (Malone). 

760. Dark. The 4th and later eds. have " their." 

762. Sith. Since. See Cor. p. 236, note on Sithence. Cf. 1163 below. 

766. Reaves. Bereaves. For the participle, still used in poetry, see 
1 1 74 below. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. p. 177. 

768. Use. Interest. See Much Ado, p. 133. 

774. Treatise. Discourse, talk, tale. Cf. Much Ado, i. 1. 317 and Macb. 
v. 5. 12, the only other instances of the word in S. 

777. Mermaid's. Siren's. Cf. 429 above. 

780. Closure. Enclosure; as in Sonn. 48. 11 and Rich. III. iii. 3. 11. 
In T. A. v. 3. 134 it is = close, conclusion. 

787. Reprove. Disprove, confute ; as in Much Ado, ii. 3. 241 : " 't is 
so ; I cannot reprove it," etc. 

795. Simple. Artless, guileless. 

807. In sadness. In earnest. Cf. R. and J. p. 144. 

808. Teen. Sorrow. See R. and J. p. 150, or Temp. p. 113. 

813. Laund. Lawn. The 4th and later eds. have " lawnes." See 3 
Hen. VI. p. 154. 
825. Mistrustful. Causing mistrust. See Gr. 3. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 179 

830. That. So that. See on 242 above. 

833. Av tne! Changed by H. to "Ah me!" which S. never uses. 
See M. N. D. p. 128. 

837. Thrall. Enslaved. Cf. R. of L. 725. For the noun, see Macb. 
p. 225. 

840. Answer. The plural may be explained either by the implied plu- 
ral in the collective choir or by "confusion of proximity" (Gr. 412). 
The 1 2th ed. has "answers." 

848. Idle sounds resembling parasites. That is, servilely echoing what 
she says, as the context shows. St. reads " idle, sounds-resembling, par- 
asites." 

849. Shrill-tongued tapsters, etc. Cf. I Hen. IV. ii. 4, where Prince 
Henry amuses himself with the tapster Francis. 

850. Wits. Theo. conjectured " wights," for the sake of the rhyme ; 
but parasites is spelled "parasits" in the first three eds., and may have 
been intended to be so pronounced. See on 1001, 1002 below. But the 
rhyme of parasites and wits is no worse than many in the poem. Cf., 
for instance, 449, 450, and 635, 636 above. 

854. Cabinet. Poetically for nest, as cabin in 637 above for lair or 
den. 

858. Seem burnish 'd gold. Malone compares the opening lines of 
Sonu. 33. 

865. Myrtle grove. It will be recollected that the myrtle was sacred 
to Venus. 

866. Musing. Wondering. See K. John, p. 158, or Macb. p. 219. 

868. For his hounds. The 4th ed. omits his. 

869. Chant it. For the it, see Gr. 226. 

870. Coasteth. Schmidt well explains the word : " to steer, to sail not 
by the direct way but in sight of the coast, and as it were gropingly." 
Cf. Hen. VIII. iii. 2. 38 : 

"The king in this perceives him, how he coasts 
And hedges his own way." 

See our ed. p. 183. 

873. Twine. The 1st and 2d eds. have " twin'd," the 3d " twind," and 
the 4th " twinde ;" corrected in the 5th. 

877. At a bay. The state of a chase when the game is driven to ex- 
tremity and turns against its pursuers. Cf. T. of S. v. 2. 56, I Hen. VI. 
iv. 2. 52, etc. 

884. Blunt. Rough, savage. See 3 Hen. VI. p. 163. 

887. Curst. Snappish, fierce. Cf. W. T. iii. 3. 135 : "they [bears] are 
never curst but when they are hungry;" Much Ado, ii. I. 22 : "a curst 
cow," etc. See also M. N. D. p. 167. 

888. Cope him. Cope with him, encounter him. Cf. T. and C. i. 2. 34, 
ii. 3. 275, etc. 

891. Who. For who used "to personify irrational antecedents" see 
Gr. 264. Cf. 956 and 1041 below. 

892. Cold-pale. The hyphen is in the early eds. 
895. Ecstasy. Excitement. Cf. Macb. p. 21 1. 



180 NOTES. 

896. All dismay d. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. ; "Sore dis- 
may'd " in the rest. 

899. For the second bids the 6th and some later eds. have " will's." 
901. Bepainted. The 4th ed. has " be painted." 
907. Spleens. Passionate impulses. Cf. 1 Hen. IV. p. 161. 
909. Mated. Bewildered, paralyzed. Cf. Macb. p. 247. 

911. Respects. Considerations, thoughts ; as in L. L. L. v. 2. 792, etc. 
The 3d and later eds. have " respect." 

912. In hand with. Taking in hand, undertaking. 

930. Exclaims on. Cries out against. Cf. R. of L. 741, M. of V. iii. 
2. 176, etc. 

933- Worm. Serpent. See Cymb. p. 193, or Macb. p. 215. 
947. Love's golden arrozu, etc. Malone remarks that S. had probably 
in mind the old fable of Love and Death exchanging their arrows by 
mistake; and he quotes Massinger, Virgin Martyr: 

' ' Strange affection ! 
Cupid once more hath chang'd his darts with Death, 
And kills instead of giving life." 

956. Valid. Let fall. See on 314 above. 

962. The tears. The 4th and following eds. have " her teares ;" and in 
968 " which" for who. 

969. Passion labours. The 4th ed. has "passions labour." 

975. Dire. The 4th ed. misprints " drie," which is repeated as " dry " 
in the 5th and 7th. The 10th has " drie " again. 

988. Makes. " Make " in the 5th and following eds. 

990. In likely. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. The 3d and 4th 
have " The likely," and the rest " With likely." 

993. All to naught. Good for nothing. Some print "all-to naught," 
and others "all to-naught." Cf. Per. p. 147, note on 17. 

995. Clepes. Calls. See Macb. p. 209. 

996. Imperious. " Imperial " (the reading of the 5th ed. et al.). See 
Ham. p. 264. 

998. Pardon me I felt. That is, that I felt. Some make pardon me 
parenthetical. 

999. Whenas. When. See C. of E. p. 142. 

1002. Decease. The early eds. have " decesse," " deceass," or " de- 
ceasse." See on 850 above. For my love's the 4th ed. has " thy loues." 

1004. Wreak\i. Revenged. Cf. R. and J. iii. 5. 102 and T. A. iv. 3. 
51. See also the noun in Cor. iv. 5. 91, T A. iv. 3. 33, etc. The 4th ed. 
prints " Bewreakt." 

1010. Suspect. For the noun, see Rich. III. p. 188. 

1012. Insinuate with. Try to ingratiate herself with. Cf. A. Y. L. 
p. 201. 

1013. Stories. For the verb, cf. R. of L. 106 and Cymb. i. 4. 34. 

1021. Eoud. Foolish ;• the usual meaning in S. Cf. R. of L. 216, 1094, etc. 

1027. Falcon. The reading of the 5th ed., and to be preferred on the 
whole to the plural of the earlier eds.. 

1037. His bloody view. Walker (followed by H.) conjectures "this" 
for his. See Gr. 219. 



VENUS AND ADONIS. 181 

1038. Deep-dark. Hyphened in the first three eds. 
1 04 1. Who. See on 891 above. 

105 1. Light. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. The 3d and 4th 
have "night," and the rest "sight." 

1052. Trench 'd. Gashed. See Macb. p. 214. The 3d and 4th eds. 
have "drencht." 

1054. Was. The first four eds. have " had ;" corrected in the 5th. 

1059. Passions. Grieves. See T. G. of V. p. 150. 

1062. That they have wept till now. That is, that they have wasted 
their tears on inferior "hints of woe." 

1073. Eyes' red fire. The 1st and 2d eds. have "eyes red fire," the 3d 
has "eyes red as fire," the 4th "eies as red as fire," and the rest have 
" eyes, as fire." 

1080. True-sweet. The hyphen was inserted by Malone. 

1083. Fair. Beauty ; as in C. of E. ii. I, 98, A. Y. L. iii. 2. 99, etc. 

1094. Fear. Frighten. See M. of V. p. 137, or K. John, p. 147. 

1098. Silly. Innocent, helpless. Cf. R. of L. 167 : " the silly lambs j" 
3 Hen. VI. ii. 5. 43 : " silly sheep," etc. See also T. G. of V. p. 145. 

1 105. Urchin-snouted. With snout like that of a hedgehog. For 
tirchiu, cf. Temp. p. 119. 

1 1 10. He thought to kiss him, etc. This conceit, as Malone notes, is 
found in the 30th Idyl of Theocritus, and in a Latin poem by Antonius 
Sebastianus Minturnus entitled De Adoni ab Apro Inierempto: 

"iterum atque juro iterum, 
Formosum hunc juvenem tuum haud volui 
Meis diripere his cupidinibus ; _ 
Verum dum specimen nitens video 
(Aestus impatiens tenella dabat 
Nuda femina mollibus zephyris), 
Ingens me miserum libido capit 
Mille suavia dulcia hinc capere, 
Atque me impulit ingens indomitus." 

Cf. Milton, Death of a Fair Infant: 

"O fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted! 
Soft silken primrose fading tunelessly, 
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst outlasted 
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; 
For he, being amorous on that lovely dye 
That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, 
But kill'd, alas! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss." 

1 1 13. Did not. All the eds. except the 1st have "would not." 

1 1 15. Nuzzling. Thrusting his nose in; the only instance of the word 
in S. It is spelled " nousling " in all the early eds. 

1 120. Am I. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. ; "lam " in the rest. 

1 125. Ears. The 4th and later eds. have " ear," and in the next line 
"he" for they. 

1 128. Lies. For the singular, see Gr. 333. 

1 134. Thou. The 4th and following eds. have "you," and in 1139 the 
5th et al. have " too high " for but high. 

1 136. On love. The 4th ed. has " in " for on. 



182 NOTES. 

1 143. O 'erstraw 'd. Overstrewn ; used of course for the rhyme. The 
4th ed. has " ore-straw." 

1 144. Tmest. The reading of the first three eds. ; "sharpest" in the 
rest. 

1148. Measures. For measure = a grave and formal dance, see Rich. 
II. p. 168. 

1 151. Raging-mad and silly-mild. The hyphens were first inserted by 
M alone. 

1 157. Toward. Forward, eager. Cf. P. P. 13, T. of S. v. 2. 182, etc. 
For shows the 5th and later eds have "seems " or "seemes." 

1 162. Combustions. Combustible; used by S. nowhere else. 

1 163. Sith. See on 762 above. 

1 164. Loves. " Love " in the 4th and later eds. 

1 168. A purple flower. The anemone. The 4th ed. has "purpul'd." 

1 1 74. Reft. See on 766 above. 

1 183. Here in. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. ; "here is" in the 
rest. 

1 187. In an hour. The 5th and later eds. have "of" for in. 

1 190. Doves. See on 153 above. 

1 193. Paphos. A town in Cyprus, the chief seat of the worship of 
Venus. Cf. Temp. iv. 1. 93 and Per. iv. prol. 32. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 

The Dedication.— 2. Moiety. Often used by S. of a portion other 
than an exact half. See Ham. p. 174. 
6. Would. The reading of the first three eds.; "should" in the rest. 

The Argument. — "This appears to have been written by Shake- 
speare, being prefixed to the original edition of 1594; and is a curiosity, 
this and the two dedications to the Earl of Southampton being the only 
prose compositions of our great poet (not in a dramatic form) now re- 
maining" (Malone). 

3. Requiring. Asking. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 4. 144 : " In humblest man- 
ner I require your highness," etc. 

14. Disports. For the noun, cf. Oth. i.3. 272, the only other instance 
in S. 

The Rape of Lucrece. — For the title, see p. 11 above. The Camb. 
editors give " The Rape of Lucrece " throughout. 

1. Ardea. As D. notes, S. accents the word on the first syllable, as it 
should be. The Var. of 1821 and some other eds. have "besieg'd," 
which requires " Ardea." 

/;/ post. Cf. C. of E. i. 2. 63 : "I from my mistress come to you in 
post," etc. We find " in all post " in Rich. III. iii. 5. 73. 

3. Lust-breathed. Animated by lust. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. ^ 

8. Unhappily. The early eds. have "vnhap'ly" or "vnhaply," except 
the 7th, which misprints " unhappy." 

9. Bateless. Not to be blunted. Cf. unbated in Ham. iv. 7. 139 and v. 
2. 328. See also the verb bate in L. L. L. i. 1. 6. 

10. Let. " Forbear " (Malone). Cf. 328 below, where it is =hinder. 
14. Aspects. Accented on the first syllable, as regularly in S. Cf. 452 

below. 

19. Such high-proud. The 5th, 6th, and 7th eds. have "so high a." 

21. Peer. The reading of the 1st ed. ; "prince " in all the rest. 

23. Done. Brought to an end, ruined. Cf. V. and A. 197, 749, A. W. 
iv. 2. 65, etc. 

26. Expired. Accented on the first syllable because preceding a noun 
so accented. Cf. unstained in 87, extreme in 230, supreme in 780, unfelt in 
828, dispersed in 1805, etc. The 5th, 6th, and 7th eds. have "A date ex- 
pir'd : and canceld ere begun." 

37. Suggested. Incited, tempted. See Rich. LL.p. 153, note on 101. 

40. Braving compare. Challenging comparison. For the noun, cf. V. 
and A. 8, Sonn. 21.5, etc. 

44. All-too-timeless. Too unseasonable ; first hyphened by Malone. 

47. Liver. For the liver as the seat of sensual passion, cf. Temp. iv. 1. 
56, M. W. ii. 1. 121, etc. For glows the 7th ed. has " growes." 

49. Blasts. For the intransitive use, cf. T. G. of V. i. 1. 48 : "blasting 
in the bud." 

56. O'er. " Ore " or " or'e " in the early eds. Malone was inclined 
to take it as the noun ore "in the sense of or ox gold." 

58. Venus' doves. Cf. V. and A. 153 and 1 190. 

57. /;/ that white intituled. Consisting in that whiteness, or taking its 
title from it (Steevens). 

63. Fence. Defend, guard ; as in 3 Hen. VL. ii. 6. 75, iii. 3. 98, etc. 

72. Field. There is a kind of play upon the word in its heraldic sense 
and that of a field of battle. 

71. War of lilies and of roses . Steevens compares Cor. ii. 1. 232 and 
V. and A. 345 ; and Malone adds T. of S. v. 2. 30. 

82. That praise which Collatine doth owe. Malone and H. make praise 
— object of praise, and oive — possess. This interpretation seems forced 
and inconsistent with the next line, which they do not explain. We pre- 
fer to take both praise and owe in the ordinary sense. For owe= pos- 
sess, see Rich. II. p. 204, and cf. 1803 below. 

87. Unstained thoughts. The words are transposed in the 5th and 
later eds. 

88. Lini'd. Ensnared by bird-lime. Cf. Ham. p. 233. 

89. Securely. Unsuspiciously. Cf. M. IV. ii. 2. 252, K. John, ii. 1. 374, 
etc. 

92. For that he coloured. For that inward ill he covered or disguised. 

93. Plaits. That is, plaited robes. The old eds. spell it "pleats." 
Boswell quotes Lear, i. 1. 183 : "Time shall unfold what plaited cunning 
hides." These are the only instances of the words in S. 

94. That. So that. See on V. and A. 242. For inordinate^ cf. 1 Hen. 
IV. iii. 2. 12 and Oth. ii. 3. 311. 



1 84 NOTES. 

ioo. Parting. Speaking, significant. The verb occurs again in Z. Z. 
Z. v. 2. 122. 

102. Margents. Margins. For other allusions to the practice of writ- 
ing explanations and comments in the margin of books, see M. N. D. 
p. 142. 

104. Moralize. Interpret. Cf. T. of S. iv. 4. 81 : 

" Biondello. Faith, nothing; but has left me here behind, to expound the meaning or 
moral of his signs and tokens. 

Lucentio. I pray thee, moralize them." 

See also Rich. III. p. 209. 

106. Stories. For the verb, cf. V. and A. 1013. 

117. Mother. The 5th and later eds. change this to "sad source;" 
and stows in 119 to "shuts." For stows, cf. Oth. i. 2. 62 : "where hast 
thou stow'd my daughter ?" 

121. Intending. Pretending. See Rich. III. p. 215. F 'or spright, see 
on V. and A. 181. 

122. Questioned. Talked, conversed. Cf. M. of V. iv. 1. 70, etc. 

125. Themselves betake. The Bodleian copy of 1st ed. (see p. n above) 
has "himseife betakes," and "wakes" in the next line; and these are 
the readings in the Var. of 1821. 

133. Thotigh death be adjunct. Cf. K. John, iii. 3. 57: "Though that 
my death were adjunct to my act." These are the only instances of 
adjunct in S. except Sonn. 91. 5. 

135. For what, etc. The first four eds. have "That what," etc., and 
the rest "That oft," etc. The earliest reading may be explained after a 
fashion, as by Malone : " Poetically speaking, they may be said to scat- 
ter what they have not, that is, what they cannot be truly said to have ; 
what they do not enjoy, though possessed of it." Malone compares Dan- 
iel, Rosamond: "As wedded widows, wanting what we have;" and the 
same author's Cleopatra: "For what thou hast, thou still dost lacke." 
"Tam avaro deest quod habet, quam quod non habet" is one of the 
sayings of Publius Syrus. But we have little hesitation in adopting 
Staunton's conjecture of For what, etc., as do the Camb. editors (in the 
"Globe" ed.) and H. It is supported by the context: they scatter or 
spend what they have in trying to get what they have not, and so by 
hoping more they have but less. Bond must here be = ownership, or that 
which a bond claims or secures. The reading of the 5th ed. seems to be 
a clumsy attempt to mend the corruption of the 1st. 

140. Bankrupt. Spelled " backrout," " banckrout," or " bankrout " in 
the early eds. See on V. and A. 466. 

144'. Gage. Stake, risk. 

150. Ambitious foul. Walker would read "ambitious-foul." 

160. Confounds. Ruins, destroys; as in 250, 1202, and 1489 below. 
Cf. confusion = x\x\w, in 1 159 below. 

164. Comfortable. Comforting. See Lear, p. 193, or Gr. 3. 

167. Silly. See on V. and A. 1098. 

168. Wakes. Malone and some others have "wake." See Gr. 336. 
174. Too too. D. and H. print " too-too." See M. of V. p. 143. For 

retire as a noun, cf. 573 below. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. ^5 

177. That. So that. See on 94 above. The 5th and following eds. 
have " doth " for do. 

179. Lode-star. The preferab'e spelling. S. uses the word again in 
M. N. D. i. 1. 183. 

180. Advisedly. Deliberately; as in 1527 and 1816 below. 

188. Naked. As Schmidt notes, there is a kind of play upon the word. 
Si 'ill- slaughtered '(first hyphened by Malone) =ever killed but never dying. 
196. Weed. Robe, garment. Cf. M. N. D. p. 149. 
200. Fancy 's. Love's ; as often. See M. of V. p. 148. 
202. Digression. Transgression; as in L. L. L. i. 2. 121 (see our ed. 

P- 134)- 

206. Some loathsome dash, etc. " In the books of heraldry a particu- 
lar mark of disgrace is mentioned by which the escutcheons of those 
persons were anciently distinguished who 'discourteously used a widow, 
maid, or wife, against her will ' " (Malone). 

207. Fondly. Foolishly. Cf. the adjective in 216, 284, and 1094 be- 
low ; and see on V. and A. 1021. 

208. That. So that; as in 94 and 177 above. A^te = brand, stigma. 
See Rich. II. p. 151, note on 43. 

217. Stmcken. The early eds. have "stroke," "stroken," or "struck- 
en." See on V. and A. 462. 

221. Marriage. A trisyllable. See Per. p. 141, or T. of S. p. 152. 

230. Extreme. For the accent, see on 26 above. 

236. Quittal. Requital ; used by S. only here. Cf. quittance in 2 Hen. 
IV. i. 1. 108, Hen. V. ii. 2. 34, etc. 

239. Ay, if. The first four eds. have " I, if" (ay is regularly printed / 
in the early eds.) ; the rest have "if once." 

244. Sazv. Moral saying, maxim. Cf. Ham. p. 197. For the prac- 
tice of putting these saws on the painted cloth or hangings of the poet's 
time, see A. Y. L. p. 176, note on I answer you right painted cloth. 

246. Disputation. Metrically five syllables. See on V. and A. 668. 

258. Roses that on lawn, etc. Cf. V. and A. 590. 

260. How. The 5th and later eds. have " now." 

264. Cheer. Face, look. Cf. M. of V. p. 152. 

265. Narcissus. Cf. V. and A. 161. 

268. Pleadeth. The 5th and following eds. have "pleads," with 
"dreads" and "leades" in the rhyming lines. 

274. Then, childish fear avaunt ! etc. In this line and the next we fol- 
low the pointing of the early eds. Most of the editors, with Malone, 
mzkefea?', debating, etc., vocatives. 

275. Respect. " Cautious prudence " (Malone), consideration of conse- 
quences. Cf. T. and C. p. 180. 

277. Beseems. Becomes. For the number, see on 168 above. Sad— 
serious, sober. Cf. the noun in V. and A. 807. 

278. My part. A metaphor taken from the stage. Malone sees a spe- 
cial reference to the conflicts between the Devil and the Vice in the old 
moralities (see T. N p. 159, note on Vice). 

284. Fond. Foolish, weak. See on 207 above. 

293. Seeks to. Applies to. Cf. Burton, Anat. of Melan.: "why should 



i86 



NOTES. 



we then seek to any other but to him ?" See also Dent. xii. 5, 1 Kings, 
x. 24, Isa. viii. 19, xix. 3. 

301. Marcheth. The 5th and following eds. have " doth march ;" and 
in 303 "recites" for retires. 

303. Retires his ward. Draws back its bolt. For the transitive verb, 
cf. Rich. II. ii. 2. 46 : " might have retir'd his power ;" and for ward see 
T. of A. iii. 3. 38 : " Doors that were ne'er acquainted with their wards," 
etc. 

308. His fear. That is, the object of his fear. Cf. M. N. D. v. 1. 21 : 

"Or in the night, imagining some fear, 
How often is a bush suppos'd a bear!" 

313. His conduct. That which conducts or guides him. Cf. R. and J. 
iii. 1. 129 : " And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now !" and Id. v. 3. 116 : 
" Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide," etc. 

319. Needle. Monosyllabic; as in M. N. D. iii. 2. 204 (see our ed. p. 
165), K. John, v. 2. 157, etc. Some print it " neeld." See Gr. 465. 

328. Let. Hinder. Cf. the noun just below ; and see Ham. p. 195. 

331. Prime. Spring; as in Sonn. 97. 7, etc. 

333. Sneaped. Nipped, frost-bitten. Cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 100 : 

"an envious sneaping frost 
That bites the first-born infants of the spring ;" 

and see our ed. p. 130. 

347. And they. Steevens conjectured " And he ;" but power is treated 
as a plural— perhaps on account of the preceding heavens. Cf. the plural 
use of heaven, for which see Rich. II. p. 157, note on 7. 

349. Fact. Deed. Some explain it as " crime." See Macb. p. 225, or 
W. T. p 175. 

352'. Resolution. Metrically five syllables. See on 246 above. In 354 
the 5th and following eds. have " Blacke " for The blackest. The for- 
mer, it will be seen, will satisfy the measure if absolution is made five syl- 
lables like resolution. 

370. Full. The 5th and later eds. have "too. < 

372 Fiery-pointed. " Throwing darts with points of fire (Schmidt). 
Steevens wanted to read "fire-ypointed ;" and the meaning oi fiery - 
pointed may possibly be pointed ( = appointed, equipped) with fire. > • 

377. Or else some shame suppos'd. Or else some shame is imagined 
by them. H. has the following curious note : " An odd use ot supposed, 
but strictly classical. So in Chapman's Byron's Conspiracy, 1608 : ' Fool- 
ish statuaries, that under little saints suppose great bases, make less, to 
sense, the saints.' " How the etymological sense of supposed (placed 
under) can suit the present passage it is not easy to see. _ 

386. Cheek. The reading of the 1st, 2d, and 4th eds. ; plural m the 
rest 

388. Who. See on V. and A. 891. Cf. 447 and 461 below. 

389. To want. At wanting or missing. Gr. 356. 

402. Map. Picture, image. Cf. 1712 below. See also Rich. II. p. 207, 
note on Thou map of honour. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 187 

424. Qualified. " Softened, abated, diminished " (Steevens). Cf. M. 
of V. iv. 1.7, IV. T. iv. 4. 543, etc. 

429. Obdurate. For the accent, see on V. and A. 199. 

436. Commends. "Commits" (Malone). ' 

439. Breast. Made plural in the 5th and following eds. 

448. Controlled. Restrained. Cf. 500, 678, and 1781 below. 

453. Taking. Now used only colloquially in this sense. Cf. M. W. 
iii. 3. 491 : "What a taking was he in when your husband asked who 
was in the basket !" 

456. Wrapped. Involved, overwhelmed. H. reads " rapt." Cf. 636 
below. 

458. Winking. Shutting her eyes. See on V. and A. 90. 

459. Antics. Fantastic appearances. The early eds. have " antiques." 
See M. N. D. p. 179, note on Antique. 

467. Bulk. Chest. Cf. Rich. III. p. 193. That— so that; as in 94, 
177, and 208 above. 

471. Heartless. Without heart, or courage; as in 1392 below. See 
also R. and J. i. I. 73 : " heartless hinds." These are the only instances 
of the word in S. 

472. Peers. Lets appear, shows. Elsewhere in S. peer is intransitive. 
476. Colour. Pretext. For the play on the word in the reply, cf. 2. Hen. 

IV. v. 5.91 : 

" Falstaff. Sir, I will be as good as my word ; this that you heard was but a colour. 
Shallow. A colour that I fear you will die in, Sir John." 

See our ed. p. 204. 

493. / think, etc. " I am aware that the honey is guarded with a 
sting" (Malone). 

496. Only. For the transposition of the adverb, see Gr. 420. 

497. On what he looks. That is, on what he looks on. See Gr. 394. 
500. Affection's. Passion's, lust's. Cf. W. T. p. 154. 

502. Ensue. Follow ; as in Rich. II. ii. 1. 197 : " Let not to-morrow, 
then, ensue to-day." See also 1 Peter, iii. 11. 

506. Towering, A technical term in falconry. See Macb. p. 203. 
Like may possibly be — as (cf. Per. p. 143), or there may be a "confusion 
of construction " (see Gr. 415). H. adopts the former explanation, and 
gives the impression that like is " repeatedly " so used by S. The fact is, 
that there is not a single clear instance of it in all his works. The two 
examples in Pericles are not in his part of the play : and in M. IV. D. iv. 
1. 178 (the only other possible case of the kind) the reading is doubtful 
(see our ed. p. 177), and with either reading the passage may be pointed 
so as to avoid this awkward use of like. If S. had been willing to em- 
ploy it, he would probably have done so " repeatedly ;" but it seems to 
have been no part of his English. 

507. Coucheth. Causes to couch or cower. Cf. the intransitive use in 
A. W. iv. 1. 24, etc. 

511. Falcon's bells. For the bells attached to the necks of tame fal- 
cons, cf. A. Y. L. iii. 3. 81 and 3 Hen. VI. i. 1. 47 (see our ed. p. 141). 

522. Nameless. " Because an illegitimate child has no name by inher- 
itance, being considered by the law as nullius filius" (Malone). Cf. T. 



t88 NOTES. 

G.of V. iii. i. 321 : "bastard virtues, that indeed know not their fathers, 
and therefore have no names." 

530. Simple. Cf. A. Y. L. iv. 1. 16: "compounded of many simples," 
etc. 

531. A pure compound. The 5th and later eds. have "purest com- 
pounds." In the next line, his = its. 'Purified '— rendered harmless. 

534. Tender. Favour. It is often similarly used (= regard or treat 
kindly) ; as in T. G. of V. iv. 4. 145, C. of E. v. 1. 132, etc. 

537. Wipe. Brand ; the only instance of the noun in S. For birth- 
hour's blot, cf. M. N. D.v. I. 416 : 

"And the blots of Nature's hand 
Shall not in their issue stand ; 
Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar, 
Nor mark prodigious, such as are 
Despised in nativity, 
Shall upon their children be." 

540. Cockatrice'' dead-killing eye. For the fabled cockatrice, or basi- 
lisk, which was supposed to kill with a glance of its eye, see Hen. V. p. 
183, note on The fatal balls. 

543. Gripe's. Griffin's (Steevens). The word is often —vulture; as in 
Sidney's Astrophel : 

"Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire, 
Than did on him who first stole down the fire ;" 

Ferrex and Porrex : "Or cruel gripe to gnaw my growing harte," etc. 
For allusions to the griffin, see M. N. D. ii. 1. 232 and 1 Hen. IV. iii. 1. 152. 

547. But. The reading of all the early eds. Changed by Sewell to 
" As," and by Malone to " Look." Boswell explains the text thus : " He 
knows no gentle right, but still her words delay him, as a gentle gust 
blows away a black-faced cloud." 

550. Blows. The early eds. have "blow;" corrected by Malone. 

553v Winks. Shuts his eyes, sleeps. See on 458 above. For Orpheus, 
cf. T. G. of V. iii. 2. 78, M. of V. v. I. 80, Hen. VIII. iii. 1. 3, and T. A. ii. 

4- 5 1 - 

559. Plaining. Complaining. See Lear, p. 216, or Rich. II. p. 164. 

565. His. Its ; as in 532 above. Steevens quotes M. N. D. v. 1. 96 : 
" Make periods in the midst of sentences," etc. 

568. Conjures. The accent in S. is on either syllable without regard 
to the sense. Cf. M. N. D. p. 164. 

569. Gentry. His gentle birth. Cf. W. T. i. 2. 393, Cor. iii. 1. 144, etc. 
576. Pretended. Intended ; as in T. G.of V. ii. 6. 37 : "their pretend- 
ed flight," etc. 

579. Shoot. For the noun, cf. L. L. L. iv. 1. 10, 12, 26, 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 
49, etc. Malone conjectures "suit," with a play on the word, which was 
then pronounced shoot. See L. L. L. p. 144, note on 103. 

580. Woodman. Huntsman. See M. W. p. 164. 

581. Unseasonable. Cf. M. W. iii. 3. 169 ; and see our ed. p. 154, note 
on Of the season. 

592. Convert. For the intransitive use, cf. 691 below. See also Rich. 
II. p. 210. For the rhyme, cf. Sonn. 14. 12, 17. 2, 49. 10, 72. 6, etc. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



189 



595. At an iron gate. Even at the gates of a prison (Steevens). 

607. Be remember' d. Remember, bear in mind. Cf. A. Y. L. p. 184, 
note on I am remember 'd. 

609. In clay. That is, even in their graves. Their misdeeds will live 
after them. 

615, 616. For princes are the glass, etc. For the arrangement, see Ham. 
p. 219, note on 151. 

618. Lectures. Lessons. Elsewhere in S. read lectures = give lessons, 
not receive them. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 365, T. of S. i. 2. 148, Co?-, ii. 3. 
243, etc. 

622. Laud. Cf. 887 below, 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 236, etc. 

637. Askance. Turn aside ; the only instance of the verb in S. 
Schmidt paraphrases the line thus : " who, in consequence of their own 
misdeeds, look with indifference on the offences of others." 

639. Ltcst, thy rash relier. " That is, lust which confides too rashly 
in thy present disposition and does not foresee its necessary change" 
(Schmidt). The 5th and following eds. have "reply" for relier. 

640. Repeal. Recall. Cf. J. C. p. 157. 

643. Eyne. See on V. and A. 632. The 5th and later eds. have 
"eies;" and in 649 "pretty " for petty. 

646. Let. Hindrance ; as in 330 above. 

651. To his. The reading of the 1st and 2d eds. The 3d has "to 
the," and the others " to this." The 7th has also " not thee " for not his. 

655. Who. See on 388 above. 

657. Puddle's. The reading of 1st, 2d, and 4th eds. ; the others have 
" puddle." For hears\l the 5th and 6th have " bersed," and the 7th 
" persed." Hearsed is found also in M. of V. iii. 1. 93 and Ham. i. 4. 47. 

661. Thy foider grave. H. points "thy fouler, grave;" and adds this 
strange note : " Grave is here a verb, meaning to bury or be the death 
of." He seems to take the line to mean, Thou buriest their fair life, 
and they bury thy fouler life ; but how he would explain the former 
clause we cannot guess. Of course the meaning is, Thou art their fair 
life — a repetition of the idea in they basely dignified. 

678. Controlled. See on 448 above. 

680. Nightly. The 5th and 6th eds. misprint " mighty." 

684. Prone. Headlong. The 3d, 5th, 6th, and 7th eds. have "proud." 

691. Converts. Changes. See on 592 above. 

696. Balk. Disregard, neglect. Cf. Davies, Scourge of Folly, 161 1 : 

" Learn'd and judicious lord, if I should balke 
Thyne honor'd name, it being in my way, 
My muse unworthy were of such a waike, 
Where honors branches make it ever May." 

698. Fares. The 5th and 6th eds. have "feares,"and in 706 "of 
reine " for or rein. 

701. Conceit. Conception, thought. Cf. 1298 below. 

703. His receipt. What he has received ; as in Cor. i. 1. 116: 

"The discontented members, the mutinous parts 
That envied his receipt;" 

that is, the stomach's. 



I9 o NOTES. 

707. Till, like a jade, etc. Steevens aptly quotes Hen. VIII. i. 1. 132 : 

"Anger is like 
A full-hot horse, who being allow' d his way, 
Self-mettle tires him." 

"Fox jade (=a worthless or vicious horse), cf. V. and A. 391. 

721. The spotted princess. The polluted soul. For spotted, cf. M. N. 
D. i. 1. no, Rich. II. iii. 2. 134, etc. 

728. Forestall. Prevent ; as in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 141, etc. The 7th 
ed. has "forest, all ;" as "presence" for prescience in 727, and "swear- 
ing" for sweating in 740. 

733. Perplexed. Bewildered, confounded. Cf. Oth. v. 2. 346 : " Per- 
plex'd in the extreme," etc. 

7 41. Exclaiming on. Crying out against. Cf. V. and A. 930. 

743. Convertite. Convert, penitent. The word is found also in A 4 . Y. 
L. v. 4. 190 and K. John, v. 1. 19. 

747. Scapes. Transgressions ; as in W. T. iii. 3. 73 : " some scape," 
etc. 

752. Be. The 5th and later eds..have " lie." 

766. Black stage. In the time of S. the stage was hung with black 
when tragedies were performed (Malone). Cf. I Hen. VI. p. 140, note 
on Hung be the heavens with black. 

768. Defame. Cf. 817 and 1033 below. These are the only instances 
of the noun in S. 

774. Proportioned. " Regular, orderly " (Schmidt). 

780. Supreme. For the accent, see on 26 above. 

781. Arrive. For the transitive use, cf. J. C. i. 2. no, Cor. ii. 3. 189, 
etc. For prick = dial-point, see P. and j. p. 175, note on Prick of noon. 

782. Misty. The 1st and 2d eds. have "mustie ;" corrected in the 3d 
ed., which, however, misprints " vapour " for vapours. 

783. In their smoky ranks his smothered light. That is, his light 
smothered in their smoky ranks. Gr. 419^. 

786. Distain. The 5th and later eds. have "disdaine." 

791. Palmers' 1 . Pilgrims'. See A. W. p. 161. 

792. Where. Whereas. See Z. L. L. p. 136, or Gr. 134. 
805. Sepidchred. For the accent, see lear, p. 210. 

807. Charactered. For the accent, see Ham. p. 189. 

811. Cipher. Decipher; used by S. only here and in 207 and 1396 of 
this poem. 

812. Quote. Note, observe. , Cf. P. and J. p. 154. The word is spelled 
cote in the 1st and 2d eds. Cf. T. G. of V. p. 132. 

817. Feast-finding. " Our ancient minstrels were the constant attend- 
ants on feasts" (Steevens). Their music of course made them welcome. 

820. Senseless. Not sensible of the wrong done it. 

828. Crest-wounding. . Staining or disgracing the family crest or coat 
of arms. 

830. Mot. Motto, or word, as it was sometimes called. See Per. 
p. 140. 

841. Guilty. Malone reads " guiltless." Sewell makes the line a ques- 
tion ; but, as Boswell says, Lucrece at first reproaches herself for hav- 



THE RAPE OF LUCRE CE. 191 

ing received Tarquin's visit, but instantly defends herself by saying that 
she did it out of respect to her husband. 

848. Intrude. Invade ; not elsewhere transitive in S. 

849. Cuckoos. For the allusion to the cuckoo's laying its eggs in other 
birds' nests, see the long note in I Hen. IV. p. 195. 

851. Folly. " Used, as in Scripture, for wickedness " (Malone). Schmidt 
explains it as "inordinate desire, wantonness," both here and in 556 
above. Cf. Oth. v. 2. 132 : " She turn'd to folly, and she was a whore ;" 
and see our ed. p. 206. 

858. Still-pining. Ever-longing. Cf. "still-vex'd" {Temp. i. 2. 229), 
" still-closing " {Id. iii. 3. 64), etc. For Tantalus, see V. and A. 599. 

859. Barns. Stores up ; the only instance of the verb in S. The 5th 
and later eds. have "bannes" or "bans." 

879. Point' st. Appointest; but not to be printed "'point'st," as by 
some editors. Cf. T. of S. p. 148. 

884. Temperance. Chastity. Cf. A. and C. p. 201. 

892. Smoothing. Flattering. See Rich. III. p. 188. The 5th and fol- 
lowing eds. have " smothering." 

899. Sort. Sort out, select. Cf. T. G. of V. p. 144. 

914. Appaid. Satisfied ; used by S. only here. 

920. Shift. Trickery. Nares (s. v. Shifter) quotes Rich Cabinet fur- 
nished with Varietie of Excellent Descriptions, 1616: " Shifting doth many 
times incurre the indignitie of reproach, and to be counted a shifter is as 
if a man would say in plaine tearmes a coosener." Cf. 930 below. 

925. Copesmate. Companion ; used by S. nowhere else. 

926. Grisly. Grim, terrible. Cf. 1 Hen. VI. p. 145. 

928. Watch of woes. " Divided and marked only by woes " (Schmidt). 
Cf. Macb. p. 187, note on Whose howl's his 7vatch. 

930. Injurious, shifting. St., D., and H. adopt Walker's conjecture of 
" injurious-shifting ;" but shifting may be ^-cozening, deceitful. See ow 
920 just above. 

936. Fine. Explained by Malone as = soften, refine, and by Steevens 
as =bring to an end. The latter is on the whole to be preferred. 

943. Wrong the wronger. That is, treat him as he treats others, make 
him suffer. Farmer would read " wring " for wrong. 

944. Ruinate. Cf. Sonn. 10. 7 : " Seeking that beauteous roof to ruin- 

3.tG " CtC 

With thy hours. Steevens conjectures "with their bowers," and Ma- 
lone was at first inclined to read "with his hours." 

948. To blot old books and alter their contents. As Malone remarks, S. 
little thought how the fate of his own compositions would come to illus- 
trate this line. _ 

950. Cherish springs. That is, young shoots. Cf. V. and A. 656. W arb. 
wanted to read "tarish" ( = dry up, from Fr. tarir) ; Heath conjectured 
"sere its;" and Johnson "perish." 

953. Beldam. Grandmother ; as in 1458 below. 

962. Retiring. Returning ; as in T. and C. i. 3. 281, etc. 

981. Curled hair. " A distinguishing characteristic of a person of 
rank " (Malone). Cf. Oth. p. 160, note on Curled. 



ig2 NOTES. 

985. Oris. Scraps, remnants. Cf. T. and C v. 2. 158 and T. of A. iv. 
3. 400. 

993. Unrecalling. Not to be recalled. See Gr. 372. For crime, the 
4th and following eds. have " time." 

1001. Slanderous. Disgraceful; as in J. C. iv. 1. 20: "To ease our- 
selves of divers slanderous loads." The office of executioner, or deaths- 
man (cf. Lear, p. 248), was regarded as ignominious. 

1016. Out. The 4th and following eds. have " Our." 

1021. Force not. Regard not, care not for. See L. L. L. p. 161. 

1024. Uncheerful. The 4th and later eds. have " unsearchfull." 

1027. Helpless. Unavailing; as in 1056 below. See on V. and A. 604. 

1035. Afeard. Used by S. interchangeably with afraid. 

1045. Mean. For the singular, see R. and J. p. 189. 

1062. Graff. Graft. All the early eds. except the 1st and 2d have 
"grasse." 

1070. With my trespass never will dispense. That is, will never excuse 
it. Cf. 1279 and 1704 below. See C. of E.p. 117, note on 103. 

1079. Philomel. The nightingale. Cf. 1128 below. 

1084. Cloudy. Cf. V. and A. 725. See also 1 Hen. IV. p. 180, note on 
Cloudy men. For shames — \s ashamed, cf. 1 143 below. 

1092. Nought to do. That is, nothing to do with, no concern in. 

1094. Fond. Foolish; as in 216 above. 

1 105. Sometime. The 4th and following eds. have "sometimes." The 
two forms are used indiscriminately. 

1 109. Annoy. See on V. and A. 497. 

1 1 14. Ken. Sight. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. hi. 2. 1 13: "losing ken of Al- 
bion's wished coast," etc. 

1 1 19. Who. See on 388 above. 

1 124. Stops. Referring to the slops of musical instruments. Cf. Ham. 
hi. 2. 76, 376, 381, etc. 

1 126. Relish your nimble notes to pleasing ears. Tune your lively notes 
for those who like to hear them. With pleasing cf. unrecalling in 993 
above. 

1 127. Dumps. Mournful elegies.. Cf. T.G. of V. iii. 2. 85 : "Tune a 
deploring dump." See also Much Ado, p. 137. 

1 128. Of ravishment. Referring to her being ravished by Tereus. 
See T. A. ii. 4. 26 fol. and iv. 1. 48 fol. 

1 132. Diapason. Used by S. only here. 

1 133. Burden-wise. As in the burden of a song. 

1134.. Descanfst. Singest. For the noun, see T. G. of V. p. 125. Here 
the early eds. all have "descants." See Gr. 340. Skill must be regarded 
as the direct object of descant 'st, not governed by with understood, as 
Malone makes it, pointing " descant'st, better skill." 

1 135. Against a thorn. The nightingale was supposed to press her 
breast against a thorn while singing. See Two Noble Kinsmen, p. 179, 
note on 25. 

1 140. Frets. The stops that regulated the vibration of the strings in 
lutes, etc. See Ham. p. 230, or Much Ado, p. 144 (on A lute-string). 

1 142. And for. And because. 



THE RAPE OF LVCRECE. 193 

1 143. Shaming. Being ashamed; as in 1084 above. 

1 144. Seated from the way. Situated out of the way. 
1149. At gaze. Staring about. 

1 160. Conchision. Experiment. Cf. A. and C. p. 217. 

1 167. PeeVd. Here and in 1169 the early eds. have "pil'd," "pild," 
or " pill'd ;" and this last form might well enough be retained. Cf. Gen. 
xxx. 37, 38. 

1 186. Deprive. Take away; as in 1752 below. See Ham. p. 195. 

1202. Confound. Ruin; as in 160 above. 

1205. Oversee. The overseer of a will was one who had a supervision 
of the executors. The poet, in his will, appoints John Hall and his wife 
as executors, and Thomas Russel and Francis Collins as overseers. In some 
old wills the term overseer is used instead of executor (Malone). 

1206. Overseen. Bewitched, as by the "evil eye." Cf. overlooked in 
M. W. v. 5. 87 and M. of V. iii. 2. 15 (see our ed. p. 148). 

1221. Sorts. Adapts, as if choosing or selecting. Cf. 899 above. See 
also 2 Hen. VI. p. 162. 

1222. For why. Because ; as in P. P. 5. 8, 10, etc. See T. G. of V. 
p. 139, or Gr. 75. 

1229. Eyne. See on 643 above. 

1233. Pretty. In this and similar expressions pretty may be explained 
as =" moderately great" (Schmidt), or "suitable, sufficient," as some 
make it. Cf. R. and J. i. 3. 10 : " a pretty age," etc. 

1241. And therefore are they, etc. " Hence do they (women) receive 
whatever impression their marble-hearted associates (men) choose" 
(Malone). 

1242. Strange kinds. Alien or foreign natures. 

1244. Then call them not, etc. Malone compares T. N. ii. 2. 30 : 

" How easy is it for the proper-false 
In women's waxen hearts to set their forms ! 
Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, 
For such as we are made of, such we be ;" 

and M.for M. ii. 4. 130 : 

"Women! Help Heaven! men their creation mar 
In profiting by them. Nay, call us ten times frail, 
For we are soft as our complexions are, 
And credulous to false prints." 

1247. Like a goodly. The 5th and 6th eds. have simply "like a," and 
the 7th reads "like unto a." 

1254. No man inveigh. Let no man inveigh. All the eds. but the 
1st have " inveighs." 

1257. Hild. For held, for the sake of the rhyme. The 5th and later 
eds. have "held." Cf. Spenser, F. Q. iv. n. 17 : 

"How can they all in this so narrow verse 
Contayned be, and in small compasse hild ? 
Let them record them that are better skild, - ' etc 

1258. FulfiWd. Filled full. See T. and C. p. 162. 
1261. Precedent. Example, illustration. 

1263. Present. Instant; as in 1307 below. 

N 



194 



NOTES. 



1269. Counterfeit. Likeness, image; as in M. of V. iii. 2. 115, Macb. 
ii. 3. 81, etc. 

1279. With the fault I thus far can dispense. See on 1070 above. 

1298. Conceit. Conception, thought ; as in 701 above. 

1302. Inventions. Elsewhere used of thoughts expressed in writing ; 
as in A. Y. L. iv. 3. 29, 34, T. N. v. 1. 341, etc. 

1325. Interprets. The figure here is taken from the old motion, or 
dumb-show, which was explained by an interpreter. Cf. T. of A. p. 135, 
(note on 35), or Ham. p. 228 (on 228). 

1329. Sounds. That is, waters (which may be deep, though not fath- 
omless). Malone conjectured " floods." 

1335. Fowls. The 6th and 7th eds. have " soules ;" an easy misprint 
when the long s was in fashion. 

1338. Villain. Servant, bondman. Cf. Lear, p. 232. 

1345. God wot. God knows. Cf. Rich. III. ii. 3. 18 : "no, no, good 
friends, God wot." See our ed. p. 203. 

1353. That. So that ; as in 94 above. 

1355. Wistly. Wistfully. See on V. and A. 343. 

1357, 1358. Note the imperfect rhyme. 

1368. The ivhich. Referring to Troy. 

1370. Cloud-kissing Ilion. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 220 : " Yond towers 
whose wanton tops do buss the clouds," etc. 

1371. Conceited. Fanciful, imaginative. Cf. W. T. iv. 4. 204 : " an 
admirable conceited fellow ;" L. C. 16: "conceited characters," etc. 

1372. As. That. Gr. 109. 

I 377- Strife. That is, "his art with nature's workmanship. at strife" 
( V. and A. 291). Cf. T. of A. i. 1. 37. 

1380. Pioneer. The early eds. have "pyoner" or "pioner." See 
Ham. p. 198. Here the rhyme requires pioneer. 

1384. Lust. Pleasure. Cf. T. and C. p. 200, note on 132. 

1388. Triumphing. Accented on the second syllable ; as often. See 
L. L. L. p. 148. 

1400. Deep regard and smiling government. " Profound wisdom and 
the complacency arising from the passions being under the command of 
reason " (Malone) ; or deep thought and complacent self-control. For 
deep regard, cf. 277 above. 

1407. PurVd. " Curl'd " (Steevens's conjecture) ; used by S. only here. 

14.11. Mermaid. Siren. See on V.andA. 429. 

141 7. Bollen. Swollen; used by S. nowhere else. Cf. Chaucer, 
Black Knight, 101 : " Bollen hertes," etc. The later form boiled occurs 
in Exod. ix. 31. 

1418. Pelt. Probably =throw out angry words, be passionately clam- 
orous ; as Malone, Nares, and Schmidt explain it. Cf. Wits, Fits, and 
Fancies: "all in a pelting chafe," etc. The noun is also sometimes = 
a great rage ; as in The Unnatural Brother : " which put her ladyship 
into a horrid pelt," etc. 

1422. Imaginary. Imaginative ; as in Sonn. 27. 9 : " my soul's imag- 
inary sight," etc. 

1423. Kind. Natural. See Much Ado, p. 118. 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 195 

1436. Strand. All the early eds. have " strond." See 1 Hen. IV. 

' 1440. Than. The old form of then, sometimes found in the early eds. 
(as in M. of V. ii. 2. 200, 3 Hen. VI. ii. 5. 9, etc.), here used for the sake 
of the rhyme. 

1444. .Sfe/A/. Spelled "steld" in all the early eds., and probably = 
placed, fixed. Cf. Sonn. 24. 1 : 

" Mine eye hath play'd the painter, and hath stell'd 
Thy beauty's form in table of my heart." 
In Lear, iii. 7. 61, we find "the stelled fires," where stelled is commonly 
explained as derived from stella, though Schmidt may be right in making 
it =fixed, as here. K. and H. suspect that steWd is "simply a poetical 
form of styled, that is, written or depicted as with a stilus or sty his." 

1449. Bleeding tender Pyrrhics 1 proud foot. Cf. Ham. ii. 2. 474 fol. 

1450. Anatomized. "Laid open, shown distinctly" (Schmidt). Cf. 
A. Y. L. i. 1. 162, ii. 7. 56, A. W. iv. 3. 37, etc. 

1452. Chaps. Spelled " chops " in all the early eds. except the 7th. 
Cf. chopt or chopped in A. Y. L. ii. 4. 50, 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 294, etc., and 
choppy in Macb. i. 3. 44. 

1460. Ban. Curse; as in V. and A. 326. 

1479. Moe. More. See A. Y. L. p. 176. 

i486. Swounds. Swoons. All the early eds. have " sounds," as the 
word was often spelled. 

1488. Unadvised. Unintentional, inadvertent. Cf. T. G. of V. p. 149. 

1489. Confounds. Destroys. See on 160 above. 
1494. On ringing. A-ringing. See Gr. 180. His -its. 
1496. Set a-ivork. See Ham. p. 211, or Gr. 24. 

1499. Painting. All the early eds. except the 1st and 2d have " painted." 

1500. Who. The reading of all the early eds. changed in some mod- 
ern ones to " whom." See Gr. 274. 

1504. Blunt. Rude, rough. The 5th and later eds. have " these blunt.' 

1505. His woes. "That is, the woes suffered by Patience" (Malone). 
Cf. T. N. ii. 4. 117 and Per. v. I. 139. 

1507. The harmless show. "The harmless painted figure " (Malone). 
15 1 1. Guilty instance. Token or evidence of guilt. For instance, see 
Much Ado, p. 135. 

1521. Sinon. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 190 and Cymb. iii. 4. 61. 

1524. That. So that. See on 94 above. 

1525. Stars shot from their fixed places. Cf. M. N. D. ii. I. 153 : " And 
certain stars shot madly from their spheres." 

1526. Their glass, etc. "Why Priam's palace, however beautiful or 
magnificent, should be called the mirror in which the fixed stars beheld 
themselves, I do not see. The image is very quaint and far-fetched " 
(Malone). Boswell cites what Lydgate says of Priam's palace : 

"That verely when so the sonne shone 
Upon the golde meynt among the stone, 
They gave a lyght withouten any were, 
As doth Apollo in his mid-day sphere." 

1527. Advisedly. Deliberately, attentively. 



I9 6 NOTES. 

1544. Beguil'd. Rendered deceptive or guileful. Cf.guiled in M. of 
V. iii. 2. 97 ; and see Gr. 374. The early eds. have "armed to beguild " 
(or " beguil'd ") ; corrected by Malone. 

155 1. Falls. Lets fall. Cf. M. N. D. p. 184, or J. C. p. 175. 

1555. Effects. Outward manifestations or attributes. Cf. Lear, p. 171. 
Some make it —efficacies, powers, or faculties. 

1565. Unhappy. Mischievous, fatal, pernicious ; as in C.ofE.iv.4. 
127, Lear, iv. 6. 232, etc. 

1576. Which all this time. This (namely, time) has passed unheeded 
by her during this interval that she has spent with painted images ; or 
which may perhaps refer to the slow passage of time just mentioned, and 
the meaning may be, This she has forgotten all the while that she has 
been looking at the pictures. H. says ; " Which refers to time in the 
preceding stanza, and is the object of spent: Which that she hath 
spent with painted images, it hath all this time overslipped her thought." 
This seems needlessly awkward and involved. 

1588. Water-galls. The word is evidently used here simply as =rain- 
bows, to avoid the repetition of that word. Nares and Wb. define it as 
" a watery appearance in the sky, accompanying the rainbow ;" accord- 
ing to others, it means the " secondary bow " of the rainbow (which H. 
speaks of as being "within" the primary bow). Halliwell {Archaic 
Diet.) says: "I am told a second rainbow above the first is called in 
the Isle of Wight a watergeal. Carr has weather-gall, a secondary or 
broken rainbow." 

For element— sky, see J. C. p. 140. 

1589. To. In addition to. Gr. 185. 

1592. Sod. The participle of seethe, used interchangeably with sodden. 
See L. L. L. p. 145. 

1595. Both. The 5th and later eds. have "But." 

1598. Uncouth. Strange (literally, unknown). Cf. A. Y. L. ii. 6. 6: 
" this uncouth forest," etc. 

1600. Atlir'd in discontent. Cf. Much Ado, iv. 1. 146: "so attir'd in 
wonder," etc. 

1604. Gives her sorrow fire. The metaphor is taken from the discharge 
of the old-fashioned fire-lock musket. Cf. T G. of V. ii. 4. 38 : " for you 
gave the fire." 

1606. Addressed. Prepared, ready. See J. C. p. 156. 

1615. Moe. The reading of the first three eds. ; "more" in the rest. 
See on 1479 above. 

1632. Hard-favour' d. See on V. and A. 133. 

1645. Adulterate. Cf. C. of E. ii. 2. 142, Ham. i. 5. 42, etc. 

1661. Declined. All the eds. except the 1st have "inclin'd." 

1662. Wretched. Walker plausibly conjectures " wreathed." Cf. T. 
G. of V. ii. 1. 19 : " to wreathe your arms." 

1667. As throtigh an arch, etc. Doubtless suggested by the tide rush- 
ing through the arches of Old London Bridge. See Cor. p. 271 (note on 
47) and 2 Hen. IV. p. 29, foot-note. 

167 1. Recall" d in rage, etc. Farmer wished to read " recall'd, the rage 
being past." 



THE RAPE OF LUCRECE. 



197 



1672. Make a saw. The metaphor is quaint, but readily understood 
from the context. The noun saw is used by S. nowhere else, though 
handsaw occurs in I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 187 and Ham. ii. 2. 397. 

1680. One woe. The 1st and 2d eds. have "on" for one, a common 
spelling. Cf. Two Noble Kinsmen, p. 164, note on 70. 

1 69 1. Venge. Not 7 venge, as often printed. See Rich. II. p. 158. 

1694. Knights, by their oaths, etc. Malone remarks : " Here one of the 
laws of chivalry is somewhat prematurely introduced." See T. and C. 
p. 174, note on 283. 

1698. Bewray'd. Exposed, made known. Cf. Lear, p. 199. 

1704. With the foul act dispense. See on 1070 above. 

1705. Advance. Raise; opposed to low-declined. For advance — \\it 
up, see Cor. p. 210. 

1713. Carv\l in it. All the early eds. have "it in" for in it, except 
the 7th, which omits it. The correction is Malone's. 

1715. By my excuse, etc. Livy makes Lucretia say: "Ego me, etsi 
peccato absolvo, supplicio non libero ; nee ulla deinde impudica exem- 
plo Lucretiae vivet ;" which Painter, in his novel (see p. 16 above) 
translates thus : " As for my part, though I cleare my selfe of the offence, 
my body shall feel the punishment, for no unchaste or ill woman shall 
hereafter impute no dishonest act to Lucrece." 

1720. Assays. Attempts ; as in T. of A. iv. 3. 406, Ham. iii. 3. 69, etc. 

1728. Spright. See on 121 above. 

1730. Astonish 'd. Astounded, thunderstruck. Cf. 2 Hen. VI. v. 1. 
146, etc. 

1738. That. So that; as in 1764 below. See on 94 above. 

1740. Vastly. "Like a waste" (Steevens) ; the only instance of the 
word in S. 

1745. Rigol. Circle. See 2 Hen. IV. p. 193. 

1752. Deprived. Taken away; as in 1186 above. 

1754. Unliv'd. Probably the poet's own coinage, and used by him 
only here. 

1760. Fair fresh. D. reads "fresh fair," and St. and H. "fresh-fair." 

1765. Last. All the early eds. but the 1st and 2d have "hast," and 
in the next line " thou " for they. 

1766. Surcease. Cease ; as in Cor. iii. 2. 121 and R. and J. iv. I. 97. 
1774. Key-cold. Cf. Rich. III. i. 2. 5 : " Poor key-cold figure of a holy 

king ;" and see our ed. p. 183. 

1784. Thick. Fast. Cf. thick-coming in Macb. v. 3. 38. See also Cymb. 
p. 189, note on Speak thick. 

1798. This windy tempest, etc. Cf. T. and C. p. 198 (note on 55), or 
3 Hen. VI. p. 146 (note on 146). 

1 80 1. Too late. Too lately. Cf. 426 above and V. and A. 1026. See 
also Rich. III. p. 209. 

1803. / owed her. She was mine. For owe — own, see Rich. II. p. 
204, or K. John, p. 141. 

1805. Dispersed. For the accent, see on 26 above. 

1816. Advisedly. Deliberately. Cf. 180 and 1527 above. So advised= 
deliberate, in i84-9 below. 



198 



NOTES. 



1819. Unsounded. Not sounded or understood hitherto. Cf. 2 Hen. 
VI. iii. 1. 57. 

1822. Wounds help. Walker would read " heal " and St. " salve " for 
help. 

1829. Relenting. The 5th and later eds. have "lamenting." 

1832. Suffer these abominations, etc. That is, permit these abominable 
Tarquins to be chased, etc. 

1839. Complain 'd. Bewailed. For the transitive use, cf. Rich. II. 
p. 197. Gr. 291. 

1845. Allow. Approve. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. p. 185. 

185 1. Thorough. Used interchangeably with through. Cf. M. of V. 
p. 144, note on Thro:ighfares. The 5th ed. has " through out," and the 
7th " throughout." 

1854. Plausibly. With applause or acclamations (Malone and Stee- 
vens) ; or "readily, willingly" (Schmidt). It is the only instance of the 
adverb in S. Plausible occurs only in M.for M. iii. 1. 253, where it is = 
pleased, willing. 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 



For the feminine use of lover in the title, cf. A. Y. L. p. 181. 

1. Re-worded. Compare Ham. iii. 4. 143: "I the matter will re- 
word." 

2. Sistering. We find the verb in Per. v. prol. 7 : " her art sisters the 
natural roses." 

3. Spirits. Monosyllabic ; as not unfrequently. Cf. 236 below ; and 
see on V. and A.\%\. A ccorded— agreed. 

4. Laid. Malone reads " lay," which is the form elsewhere in S. 

5. Fickle. Apparently referring to her behaviour at the time. 

6. A-twain. So in the folio text of Lear, ii. 2. 80, where the quartos 
have "in twain." In Oth. v. 2. 206, the 1st quarto has a-twain, the other 
early eds. "in twain." 

7. Her zvorld. Malone quotes Lear, iii. 1. 10 : 

" Strives in his little world of man to outscorn 
The to-and-fro-conflicting wind and rain." 

See our ed. p. 215. 

n. Done. Past, lost. Cf. V. and A. 197, 749, and R. of L. 23. 

14. Sear'd. Withered. H. has " sere." 

15. Heave her napkin. Lift her handkerchief. For heave, cf. Cymb. 

v. 5- 157 : 

"O, would 
Our viands had been poison' d, or at least 
Those which I heav'd to head;" 

and for napkin see Oth. p. 188. 

16. Conceited characters. Fanciful figures. See on R. of L. 1371. 

17. Laundering. Wetting; used by S. only here. Malone calls the 
verb " obsolete ;" but it has come into use again in our day. 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 



199 



18. Seasoned. A favourite figure with S. See Much Ado, p. 155. 
For pelleted ( = rounded), cf. A. and C. iii. 13. 165. 

21. Size. This use of the word seems peculiar now; but cf. Hen. 
VII L v. I. 136, A. and C. iv. 15. 4, v. 2. 97, etc. 

22. Carriage. The figure is taken from a gun-carriage. LeveWd was 
a technical term for aiming a gun. See Rich. III. p. 232. 

30. Careless hand of pricie. That is, hand of careless pride. 

31. Sheav\i. Straw. Cf. 8 above. 

33. Threaden. The word is used again in Hen. V. iii. chor. 10 : 
"threaden sails." 

36. Maund. Hand - basket ; used by S. only here. Cf. Drayton, 
Polyolbion, xiii. : 

" And in a little maund, being made of oziers small, 
Which serveth him to do full many a thing withall, 
He very choicely sorts his simples got abroad;" 

Herrick, Poems: "With maunds of roses for to strew the way," etc. 
Hence Maundy Thursday, from the baskets in which the royal alms 
were distributed at Whitehall. 

37. Beaded. The quarto (the 1609 ed. of Sonnets, in which the poem 
first appears) has " bedded ;" corrected by Sewell. K. retains " bed- 
ded" as ^imbedded, set. 

40. Applying wet to wet. A favourite conceit with S. See A. Y. L. ii. 
I. 48, R. and J. i. 1. 138, 3 Hen. VI. v. 4. 8, Ham. iv. 7. 186, etc. 

42. Cries some. Cries for some. Malone puts some in italics (=" cries 
' Some ' "). 

45. Posied. Inscribed with posies, or mottoes. Cf. M. of V. p. 164. 
Rings were often made of bone and ivory. 

47. Moe. More. Cf. R. of L. 14.79. 

48. Sleided. Untwisted or unwrought. Cf. Pericles, p. 149. Feat— 
featly, dexterously. See Temp. p. 120. 

49. Curious. Careful ; as in A. W. i. 2. 20, Cymb. i. 6. 191, etc. 

50. Fluxive. Flowing, weeping; used by S. only here. 

51. Gan. The quarto has "gaue," which K. retains (as "gave"); 
corrected by Malone. 

53. Unapproved. Not approved, or proved true. Cf. Ham. p. 171, 
note on Approve. 

55. In top of rage. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. v. 7. 4 : " in tops of all their pride ;" 
A. and C. v. 1. 43 : " in top of all design," etc. 

Rents=rends. See M. IV. D. p. 166. 

58. Sometime. Formerly ; used interchangeably with sometimes in this 
sense. Gr. 68a. Ruffle — bustle, stir; the only instance of the noun in S. 

60. The swiftest hours. "The prime of life, when Time appears to 
move with his quickest pace " (Malone). They, according to Malone, re- 
fers to the fragments of the torn-up letters ; though he admits that the 
clause may be connected with hours, meaning that "this reverend man, 
though engaged in the bustle of court and city, had not suffered the busy 
and gay period of youth to pass by without gaining some knowledge of 
the world." This latter explanation is doubtless the correct one. 



200 NOTES. 

61. Fancy. Often =love (see on R. of L. 200), and here used concretely 
for the lover. Cf. 197 below. Fastly is used by S. only here. 

64. Slides he down, etc. That is, lets himself down by the aid of his 
staff, as he seats himself beside her. Grained=oi rough wood, or show- 
ing the grain of the wood. Cf. Cor. iv. 5. 114: "My grained ash" 
{= spear). 

69. Ecstasy. Passion, excitement. Cf. V. and A. 895. 

80. Outwards. External features ; not elsewhere plural in S. For 
Of the quarto has "O ;" corrected by Malone (the conjecture of Tyr- 
whitt). 

81. Stuck. Cf. M.for M. iv. 1. 61 : 

"O place and greatness! millions of false eyes 
Are stuck upon thee." 

88. What 's szveet to do, etc. " Things pleasant to be done will easily 
find people enough to do them " (Steevens). 

91. Sawn. Explained by some as a form of the participle of see, used 
for the sake of the rhyme ; by others as =sown, which Boswell says is 
still pronounced sawn in Scotland. The latter is the more probable. 

93. Phoenix. Explained by Malone and Schmidt as =" matchless, 
rare." So termless^ indescribable. 

95. Bare. Bareness ; not elsewhere used substantively by S. 

104. Aicthoriz'd. Accented on the second syllable ; as in the other 
two instances in which S. uses the word {Sonn. 35. 6 and Macb. iii. 4, 66). 

107. That horse, etc. H. does not include this line in the supposed 
comment. 

112. Manage. See on the verb in V. and A. 598. 

116. Case. Dress ; as in M.for M. ii. 4. 13, etc. 

118. Came. The quarto has "Can;" corrected by Sewell. K. re- 
tains " Can." 

126. Catching all passions, etc. Steevens says : " These lines, in which 
our poet has accidentally delineated his own character, would have been 
better adapted to his monumental inscription than such as are placed on 
the scroll in Westminster Abbey." 

127. That. So that. See on V. and A. 242. 

139. Moe. Of. 47 above. 

140. Owe. Own. See on R. of L. 1803. 

144. Was my own fee-simple. " Had an absolute power over myself *' 
(Malone). See A. W. p. 171. 

153. Foil. The background used to set off a jewel. Cf. Rich. III. 
p. 242. 

155. Assay. Essay, try. Cf. V. and A. 608. 

162. Blood. Passion. Cf. Much Ado, p. 131, note on 162. 

163. Proof Experience. Cf. Mtich Ado, p. 131. 

169. Further. St. conjectures " father." 

170. The patterns of his fond beguiling. "The examples of his seduc- 
tion" (Malone). 

171. Orchards. Gardens. See J. C. p. 142. For the figure, cf. Sonn. 
16.6. 



A LOVER'S COMPLAINT. 2 oi 

173. Brokers. Panders, go-betweens. Cf. Ham. p. 191. 

174. Thought. Malone took this to be a noun. 

176. My city. For the figure, cf. R. of L. 469 (see also 1547), A. W. i. 

1. 137, etc. 

182. Woo. The quarto has "vow;" corrected by D. 

185. Acture. Action ; not found elsewhere. Cf. enactures in Ham. iii. 

2. 207. 

Malone paraphrases the passage thus : " My illicit amours were merely 
the effect of constitution [or animal passion], and not approved by my 
reason : pure and genuine love had no share in them, or in their conse- 
quences ; for the mere congress of the sexes may produce such fruits, 
without the affections of the parties being at all engaged." 

192. Teen. Trouble, pain. See on V. and A. 808. 

193. Leisures. Moments of leisure. Schmidt makes it =" affections, 
inclinations," which it i?nplies. 

197. Fancies. See on 61 above. 

198. Paled. The quarto has "palyd," and Sewell reads "pallid." 
Paled is due to Malone. 

204. These talents, etc. " These lockets, consisting of hair platted and 
set in gold" (Malone). 

205. Impleaded. Interwoven. Cf. pleached 'in Much Ado,\i\. I. 7, and 
thick-pleached in Id. i. 2. 8 (see our ed. p. 126). 

207. Beseech'd. Cf. the past tense in Ham. iii. 1. 22. 

208. Annexions. Additions ; used by S. only here, as annexment only 
in Ham. iii. 3. 21. 

210. Q/tidity. " In the age of S. peculiar virtues were imputed to ev- 
ery species of precious stone" (Steevens). 

212. Invis\l. " Invisible " (Malone) ; or, " perhaps = inspected, inves- 
tigated, tried" (Schmidt). No other example of the word is known. 

214. Weak sights, etc. Eye-glasses of emerald were much esteemed 
by the ancients ; and the near-sighted Nero is said to have used them in 
watching the shows of gladiators. 

215. Blend. Walker makes this a participle =blended. He adds : 
"The expression is perhaps somewhat confused, but it refers to the 
ever-varying hue of the opal." 

217. Blazon' 'd. Interpreted, explained. Cf. the noun in Much Ado, 
ii. 1. 307. 

219. PenszVd. Found only here. Pensive occurs in 3 Hen. VI. iv. 1. 
10 and R. and J. iv. 1. 39. H. adopts Lettsom's conjecture of" pensive " 
here ; but the " pensiu'd " of the quarto could hardly be a misprint. 

223. Of force. Perforce, of necessity. Cf. L. L. L. i. 1. 148, M. N. D. 
iii. 2. 40, etc. 

224. Enpatron me. Are my patron saint. 

225. Phraseless. Probably = indescribable, like termless in 94 above. 
Schmidt thinks it may possibly be =silent, like speechless (hand) in Cor. 
v. I. 67. 

229. What me, etc. Whatever obeys me, your minister, for (or instead 
of) you, etc. 

231. Distract. Disjoined, separate. For the accent, see on R. of L. 26. 



202 NOTES. 

232. A sister. The quarto has " Or sister ;" corrected by Malone. 

233. Note. Notoriety, distinction. Cf. Cymb. p. 170, on A crescent note. 

234. Which late, etc. Who lately withdrew from her noble suitors. 

235. Whose rarest havings, etc. "Whose accomplishments were so 
extraordinary that the flower of the young nobility were passionately 
enamoured of her " (Malone). 

236. Spirits. Monosyllabic, as in 3 above. Coat may be = coat-of- 
arms (Malone), or dress as indicative of rank, as some explain it. 

240. Have not. H. adopts Barron Field's conjecture of "love not" — 
a needless if not an injurious change. 

241. Paling the place, etc. The quarto has " Playing the place," etc. ; 
for which no really satisfactory emendation has been proposed. Paling, 
which is as tolerable as any, is due to Malone, who explains the line 
thus : " Securing within the pale of a cloister that heart which had never 
received the impression of love." Lettsom conjectures " Salving the 
place which did no harm receive." St. proposes " Filling the place," 
etc. Paling is adopted by K., D., W., and H. For pah — enclose, cf. 
A. and C. ii. 7. 74, 3 Hen - VL l 4- I0 3> etc - _ . _ . „ 

243. Contrives. Some make this =wear away, spend ; as in 7. of S. 
i. 2. 278 (see our ed. p. 141). 

250. Eye. The rhyme of eye and eye is apparently an oversight, no mis- 
print being probable. 

251. Immured. The quarto has " enur'd " and " procure ;" both cor- 
rected bv Gil don. . , 

252. To tempt, all. Most eds. join all to tempt, which, to our thinking, 
mars both the antithesis and the rhythm. 

258. Congest. Gather in one ; used by S. only here. 

260. Nun. The quarto has " Sunne." The correction was suggested 
by Malone, and first adopted by D. 

261. Ay, dieted. The quarto has " I dieted," not " I died," as Malone 
(who reads "and dieted") states. 

262. Believ'd her eyes, etc. " Believed or yielded to her eyes when 
they, captivated by the external appearance of her wooer, began to assail 
her chastity " (Malone). " When I the assail " was an anonymous con- 
jecture which Malone was at first inclined to adopt. 

265. Sting. Stimulus, incitement. 

271. Love's arms are proof , etc. Another corrupt and perplexing line. 
The quarto has " peace " for proof, which was suggested by Malone. 
Steevens conjectures " Love aims at peace," D. " Love arms our peace," 
and Lettsom " Love charms our peace." 

272. And siveetens. And it {Love) sweetens. 

273. Aloes. The only mention of the bitter drug in S. 
276. Supplicant. Not found elsewhere in S. 

279. Credent. Credulous. Cf. Ham. i. 3. 30 : "too credent ear," etc. 

280. Prefer and undertake . Recommend (cf. M. of V. p. 140) and guar- 
antee, or answer for (see 1 Hen. VI. v. 3. 158, Hen. VIII. proJ. 12, etc.). 

281. Dismount. "The allusion is to the old English fire-arms, which 
were supported on what was called a rest" (Malone). For leveWd- 
aimed, see on 22 above. 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 203 

286. Who glaz'd with crystal gate, etc. Malone points thus : " Who, 
glaz'd with crystal, gate ;" making gate " the ancient perfect tense of the 
verb to get. ' n Flame he took to be the object of gate. 

293. O cleft effect! The quarto has " Or " for O ; corrected by Gildon. 

294. Exliucture. Extinction ; used by S. only here. 

297. Daffd. Doffed, put off. See A. and C. p. 203, or Much Ado, p. 
138. Stole (=robe) is not found elsewhere in S. 

298. Civil. Decorous ; as in Oth. ii. 1. 243 : " civil and humane seem- 
ing," etc. 

303. Cautels. Deceits. Cf. Ham. p. 187. 

305. Swooning. The quarto has "sounding," and "sound" in 308 
below. See on R. of L. i486 ; and cf. R. and J. p. 186 (on Swottnded). 
309. Level. See on 281 above. 

314. Luxury. Lust, lasciviousness ; the only meaning of the word in 
S. Cf. Hen. V. p. 166. 

315. Preach' d pure maid. Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 2. 227 : "speak sad brow 
and true maid." 

318. Unexperient. Used by S. only here, as unexperienced only in T. 
ofS. iv. 1. 86. 

319. Chentbin. Used by S. ten times. Cf. M. of V. p. 162. Cherub 
he has only in Ham. iv. 3. 50, cherubim not at all. 

327. Owed. That is, owned, or his own. See on 140 above. Bor- 
rowed motion = counterfeit expression of feeling. 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 

Swinburne remarks : " What Coleridge said of Ben Jonson's epithet 
for 'turtle-footed peace,' we may say of the label affixed to this rag- 
picker's bag of stolen goods : The Passionate Pilgrim is a pretty title, a 
very pretty title ; pray what may it mean ? In all the larcenous little 
bundle of verse there is neither a poem which bears that name nor a 
poem by which that name would be bearable. The publisher of the 
booklet was like 'one Ragozine, a most notorious pirate ;' and the meth- 
od no less than the motive of his rascality in the present instance is pal- 
pable and simple enough. Fired by the immediate and instantly prover- 
bial popularity of Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis, he hired, we may 
suppose, some ready hack of unclean hand to supply him with three 
doggrel sonnets on the same subject, noticeable only for the porcine 
quality of prurience ; he procured by some means a rough copy or an 
incorrect transcript of two genuine and unpublished sonnets by Shake- 
speare, which with the acute instinct of a felonious tradesman he laid 
atop of his worthless wares by way of gilding to their base metal ; he 
stole from the two years published text of Love's Labour V Lost, and re- 
produced with more or less mutilation or corruption, the sonnet of Lon- 
gaville, the ' canzonet ' of Biron, and the far lovelier love-song of Dumain. 
The rest of the ragman's gatherings, with three most notable exceptions, 



204 NOTES. 

is little better for the most part than dry rubbish or disgusting refuse ; 
unless a plea may haply be put in for the pretty commonplaces of the 
lines on a ' sweet rose, fair flower,' and so forth ; for the couple of thin 
and pallid if tender and tolerable copies of verse on 'Beauty' and 'Good 
Night,' or the passably light and lively stray of song on ' crabbed age 
and youth.' I need not say that those three exceptions are the stolen 
and garbled work of Marlowe and of Barnfield, our elder Shelley and our 
first-born Keats ; the singer of Cynthia in verse well worthy of Endymion, 
who would seem to have died as a poet in the same fatal year of his age 
that Keats died as a man ; the first adequate English laureate of the 
nightingale, to be supplanted or equalled by none until the advent of his 
mightier brother." 

The contents of Jaggard's piratical collection, stated more in detail, 
were as follows (the order being that of the " Globe " ed.) : 

I., II. Shakespeare's Sonnets 138 and 144, with some early or corrupt 
readings (to be noted in our ed. of the Sonnets). 

III. Longaville's sonnet to Maria in Z. Z. L. iv. 3. 60 fol. : "Did not 
the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye," etc. The verbal variations in the 
two versions (as in V. and XVII.) are few and slight. 

IV. (I. of the present ed.). 

V. The sonnet in Z. Z. Z. iv. 2. 109 fol. : " If love make me forsworn," 
etc. 

VI., VII. (II. and IV. of this ed.). 

VIII. The following sonnet, probably by Richard Barnfield, in whose 
Poems : In diners humors, 1598 (appended, with a separate title-page, to a 
small volume containing The Encomion of Lady Pecunia and The Com- 
plaint of Poetrie,for the Death of Liberalitie), it had first appeared, with 
this heading: "To his friend Maister R. L. In praise of Musique and 
Poetrie :" 

" If music and sweet poetry agree, 
As they must needs, the sister and the brother, 
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me, 
Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other. 
Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch 
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense ; 
Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such 
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence. 
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound 
That Phcebus' lute, the queen of music, makes ; 
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd 
Whenas himself to singing he betakes. 
One god is god of both, as poets feign ; 
One knight loves both, and both in thee remain." 

Barnfield terms these poems "fruits of unriper years," and expressly 
claims their authorship. The above sonnet is the first in the collection. 
Both this and XXI. are omitted in the second edition of Lady Pecunia, 
1605 ; but so also are nearly all of the "Poems in Divers Humors," so 
that no substantial argument can rest upon the absence of the two P. P. 
sonnets from that edition (Halliwell). 

IX., X. (III. and V. of this ed.). 

XI. The following sonnet, probably by Bartholomew Griffin, in whose 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 



205 



Fidessa more Chaste than Kinde, 1 596, it had appeared with some varia- 
tions:* 

"Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her 
Under a myrtle shade, began to woo him : 
She told the youngling how god Mars did try her, 
And as he fell to her, so fell she to him. 
' Even thus,' quoth she, ' the warlike god embrac'd me,' 
And then she clipp'd Adonis in her arms ; 
'Even thus,' quoth she, 'the warlike god unlac'd me,' 
As if the boy should use like loving charms ; 
'Even thus,' quoth she, 'he seized on my lips,' 
And with her lips on his did act the seizure : 
And as she fetched breath, away he skips, 
And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure. 

Ah, that I had my lady at this bay. 

To kiss and clip me till I run away!" 

XII., XIIL, XIV., XV. (VI., VII., VIII., and IX. of this ed.). 

XVI. Here begin the "Sonnets to sundry notes of Musicke" (see p. 
12 above) with the following, which is certainly not Shakespeare's, 
though it is not found elsewhere : 

" It was a lording' s daughter, the fairest one of three, 
That liked of her master as well as well might be, 
Till looking on an Englishman, the fairst that eye could see, 

Her fancy fell a-turning. 
Long was the combat doubtful that love with love did fight, 
To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight: 
To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite 

Unto the silly damsel! 
But one must be refused ; more mickle was the pain 
That nothing could be used to turn them both to gain, 
For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain : 

Alas, she could not help it ! 
Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day, 
Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away : 
Then, lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay ; 

For now my song is ended." 

XVII. Dumain's poem to Kate, in L. L. L. iv. 3. 101 fol. : " On a day 
— alack, the day !" etc. The chief variations are noted in our ed. of 
L. L. L. p. 149. 

XVIII. The following, from Thomas Weelkes's Madrigals, 1597, pretty 
certainly not Shakespeare's :f 

"My flocks feed not, 
My ewes breed not, 
My rams speed not, 
All is amiss ; 

* Instead of lines 9-14, the following are given in the Fidessa : 
' ' But he a wayward boy refusde her offer, 

And ran away, the beautious Queene neglecting: 
Shewing both folly to abuse her proffer, 
And all his sex of cowardise detecting. 
Oh that I had my mistris at that bay, 
To kisse and clippe me till I ranne away!" 
t Weelkes was the composer of the music, but not necessarily the author of the words. 
The poem is found also in England's Helicon, 1600, with the title " The Unknown 
Sheepheard's Complaint, - ' and subscribed " Ignoto " (Halliwell). 



2 o6 NOTES. 

Love's denying, 
Faith's defying, 
Heart's renying, 

Causer of this. 
All my merry jigs are quite forgot, 
All my lady's love is lost, God wot ; 
Where her faith was firmly fix'd in love, 
There a nay is plac*d without remove. 
One silly cross 
Wrought all my loss; 

O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame ! 
For now I see 
Inconstancy 

More in women than in men remain. 

In black mourn I, 
All fears scorn I, 
Love hath forlorn me, 

Living in thrall: 
Heart is bleeding, 
All help needing, 
O cruel speeding, 

Fraughted with gall. 
My shepherd's pipe can sound no deal ; 
My wether's bell rings doleful knell ; 
My curtal dog, that wont to have play'd, 
Plays not at all, but seems afraid ; 
My sighs so deep 
Procure to weep, 

In howling wise, to see my doleful plight. 
How sighs resound 
Through heartless ground, 

Like a thousand vanquish'd men in bloody fight! 

Clear wells spring not, 
Sweet birds sing not, 
Green plants bring not 

Forth their dye ; 
Herds stand weeping, 
Flocks all sleeping, 
Nymphs back peeping 

Fearfully : 
All our pleasure known to us poor swains, 
All our merry meetings on the plains, 
All our evening sport from us is fled, 
All our love is lost, for Love is dead. 
Farewell, sweet lass, 
Thy like ne'er was 

For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan : 
Poor Corydon 
Must live alone ; 

Other help for him I see that there is none." 

XIX. (X. of this ed.). 

XX. The following imperfect version of Marlowe's " Come, live with 
me," etc., with Lovers Answer (a mere fragment), attributed to Sir Wal- 
ter Raleigh :* 

* For complete copies of both these poems see our ed. of M. W. p. 150. 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 207 

" Live with me, and be my love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That hills and valleys, dales and fields, 
And all the craggy mountains yields. 

There will we sit upon the rocks, 
And see the shepherds feed their flocks, 
By shallow rivers, by whose falls 
Melodious birds sing madrigals. 

There will I make thee a bed of roses, 
With a thousand fragrant posies, 
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle 
Embroider' d all with leaves of myrtle. 

A belt of straw and ivy buds, 
With coral clasps and amber studs ; 
And if these pleasures may thee move, 
Then live with me and be my love. 

Love's Answer. 
If that the world and love were young, 
And truth in every shepherd's tongue, 
These pretty pleasures might me move 
To live with thee and be thy love." 

XXI. The following (except lines 27, 28) from Richard Barnfield's 
Poems: In divers humors, 1598 (the first 28 lines also found in Eng- 
land's Helicon, 1600, where it is subscribed " Ignoto ") : 

" As it fell upon a day 
In the merry month of May, 
Sitting in a pleasant shade 
Which a grove of myrtles made, 
Beasts did leap, and birds did sing, 
Trees did grow, and plants did spring ; 
Every thing did banish moan, 
Save the nightingale alone ; 
She, poor bird, as all forlorn, 
Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, 
And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, 
That to hear it was great pity: 
' Fie, fie, fie,' now would she cry ; 
' Tereu, tereu!' by and by; 
That to hear her so complain, 
Scarce I could from tears refrain ; 
For her griefs, so lively shown, 
Made me think upon mine own. 
Ah, thought I, thou mourn' st in vain! 
„ None takes pity on thy pain : 

Senseless trees they cannot hear thee ; 

Ruthless beasts they will not cheer thee : 

King Pandion he is dead ; 

All thy friends are lapp'd in lead; 

All thy fellow birds do sing, 

Careless of thy sorrowing. 

Even so, poor bird, like thee, 

None alive will pity me. 

Whilst as fickle Fortune smiTd, 

Thou and I were both beguil'd. 

Every one that flatters thee 
Is no friend in misery. 



208 NOTES. 

Words are easy, like the wind ; 

Faithful friends are hard to find : 

Every man will be thy friend 

Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend; 

But if store of crowns be scant, 

No man will supply thy want. 

If that one be prodigal, 

Bountiful they will him call, 

And with such-like flattering, 

' Pity but he were a king ;' 

If he be addict to vice, 

Quickly him they will entice ; 

If to women he be bent, 

They have at commandement : 

But if Fortune once do frown, 

Then farewell his great renown ; 

They that fawn'd on him before 

Use his company no more. 

He that is thy friend indeed, 

He will help thee in thy need: 

If thou sorrow, he will weep ; 

If thou wake, he cannot sleep ; 

Thus of every grief in heart 

He with thee doth bear a part. 

These are certain signs to know 

Faithful friend from flattering foe." 

Some editors have divided the above poem, making the first 28 lines 
(or the portion printed in England's Helicon) a separate piece ; but the 
whole (except lines 27, 28) forms a continuous " Ode " in Barnfield's 
book, and there is no real division in the 1599 ed. of the P. P. The 
editors have been misled by the printer's arrangement of his matter in 
that little book, where each page has an ornamental head-piece and tail- 
piece, with unequal portions of text between. The first 14 lines of this 
poem are on one page, the next 12 on the next page (27 and 28 want- 
ing), the next 14 on the next, and the last 16 on the next. As there is 
something like a break in the piece between the 3d and 4th pages as 
thus arranged, it might appear at first sight that it was a division be- 
tween poems rather than in a poem ; but, as Mr. Edmonds has pointed 
out, " the poet's object being to show the similarity of his griefs to those 
of the nightingale, he devotes the lines ending with sorrowing to the 
bird," and then " takes up his own woes with the line Whilst as fickle 
fortune smifd, and enlarges upon them to the end of the ode." 

The editor of England' 's Helicon seems to have taken the first two 
pages from the P. P., supposing them to be a complete poem ; but feel- 
ing that it ended too abruptly, he added the couplet, 

" Even so, poore bird like thee, 
None a-live will pitty mee," 
to round it off. 

It may be added that his signing the poem " Ignoto " shows that he 
was not aware it was Barnfield's, and did not consider that its appear- 
ance in the P. P. proved it to be Shakespeare's ; and the same may be 
said of XVIII., the Helicon copy of which is evidently from the P.P., 
not from Weelkes. On the other hand, XVII. of the P. P. (" On a day, 
alack the day," etc.), taken from L. L. L., is given in the Helicon with 



THE PASSIONATE PILGRIM. 



209 



Shakespeare's name attached to it. Furnivall says : " Mr. Grosart has 
shown in his prefaces to his editions of Barnfield's Poems and Griffin's 
Eidessa that there is no reason to take. from the first his Ode (XXI.) and 
his Sonnet (VIII.), or from the second his Venus and Adonis Sonnet 
(XL), many of whose readings the Passionate Pilgrim print spoils." 
See also Mr. Edmonds's able plea in behalf of Barnfield's title to VIII. 
and XXI. in the preface to his reprint (London, 1870) of the 1599 ed. of 
the P. P. p. xiv. fol. 

I.— 1. Cytherea. Cf. T. of S. ind. 2. 53, W. T iv. 4. 122, and Cymb. ii. 
2. 14. 

9. Conceit. Understanding. Cf. Pericles, p. 145. 

10. Figured. Expressed by signs. Coll. conjectures "sugar'd." 

II. — 4. Tarriance. The word occurs again in T. G. of V. ii. 7. 90. 

6. Spleen. Heat ; as often in a figurative sense. Cf. K. John, p. 141. 

12. Wistly. Wistfully. See on V. and A. 343. 

13. Whereas. Where. See Pericles, p. 136, or 2 Hen. VI. p. 153. 

III. The 2d line is wanting in all the editions ; the omission being 
first marked by Malone. 

3. Dove. See on V. and A. 153. 

5. Steep-up. Cf. Sonn. 7. 5 : " the steep-up heavenly hill." We find 
sleep-down in Oth. v. 2. 280. 

1 1. Ruth. Pity. Cf. Rich. II. p. 199. 

IV. This may be Shakespeare's. Cf. Sonn. 138. 

3. Brighter than glass, etc. Steevens quotes the following lines " writ- 
ten under a lady's name on an inn window :" 

" Quam digna inscribi vitro, cum lubrica, laevis, 
Pellucens, fragilis, vitrea tota nites!" 

14. Out-burneth. Sewell has " out burning." 

V. This is probably not Shakespeare's. 

1. Vaded. Faded. Cf. vii. 2 below. See also Rich. II. p. 157, note 
on Faded. 

3. Timely. Early. Cf. A. and C. p. 188. 

8. For why. Because. See on R. of L. 1222. The old eds. have 
" lefts " for left st in both 8 and 9. Cf. Gr. 340. 

VI. This may possibly be Shakespeare's. In the eds. of 1599 and 
1612 it is printed, as here, in twelve lines. Malone and others make 
twenty of it. 

2. Pleasance. Pleasure. Cf. Oth. p. 180. 

4. Brave. Fair, beautiful. See M. of V. p. 154. 

VII. Probably not Shakespeare's ; perhaps by the same author as V. 
I. Doubtful. A copy of this poem, said to be from an ancient MS. 

and published in the Gentleman's Magazine, vol. xxii. p. 521, has "fleet- 

o 



210 NOTES. 

ing " for doubtful both here and in 5 below. In 3 it has " almost in the 
bud " for first it gins to bud ; in 4, " that breaketh " for that 'j broken ; 
in 7, " As goods, when lost, are wond'rous seldom found ;" in 8 " can 
excite" for will refresh, and in 10 " unite" for redress ; in II " once, is 
ever" for once y s forever ; and in 12 "pains" for pain. 

A second copy, "from a corrected MS.," appeared in the same maga- 
zine, vol. xxx. p. 39. The readings are the same as in the other copy, 
except that it has "a fleeting" for "and fleeting" in 1, and "fading" 
for vaded in 8. 

7. Seld. Seldom. Cf. T. and C. iv. 5. 150: "As seld I have the 
chance." We find "seld-shown" in Cor. ii. 1. 229. 

VIII. Probably not Shakespeare's. 

3. Daffd me. Put me off, sent me away. See Mitch Ado, p. 138 ; and 
cf. L. C. 297. 

4. Descant. Comment ; as in Rich. III. i. 1. 27. Cf. R. of L. 1134. 

8. Mil. Will not. Cf. Ham. p. 259. 

9. ''Tmay be. Steevens says : "I will never believe any poet could 
begin two lines together with such offensive elisions. They may both be 
omitted without injury to sense or metre." 

12. As take. Cf. Gr. 112. 

IX. Probably not Shakespeare's. 

2. Charge the watch. Probably =accuse or blame the watch (for mark- 
ing the time so slowly). 

5. Philomela. The nightingale. See on R. of L. 1079. The Camb. 
editors conjecture that sits and should be omitted ; and they are proba- 
bly right. 

9. Packed. Sent packing, gone. Cf. Rich. III. i. 1. 146: "Till George 
be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven." 

11. Solace, solace. The old eds. have "solace and solace;" corrected 
by Malone. 

15. Moon. The old eds. have " home ;" corrected by Malone. 
18. Short, night, to-night. Shorten to-night, O night. For the an- 
tithesis, cf. Cymb. i. 6. 200 : 

" I shall short my word 
By lengthening my return." 

X. This may perhaps be Shakespeare's. Furnivall says : " That ' to 
sin and never for to saint,' and the whole of the poem, are by some 
strong man of the Shakspere breed." 

1. Whenas. When. See on V. and A. 999. 

2. Stall 'd. Got as in a stall, secured. Cf. Cymb. iii. 4. in : 

"when thou hast ta'en thy stand, 
The elected deer before thee." 

4. Partial fancy like. Y ox fancy— \o\^, see on R. of L. 200. The early 
eds. have "fancy (party all might"). Malone gave in 1780 "fancy, par- 
tial tike," but later from an ancient MS. " fancy, partial like." St. con- 
jectures " fancy martial might ;" the Camb. editors read " fancy, martial 



THE PHCENIX AND THE TURTLE. 2 n 

wight" (a conjecture of Malone's); and W. " fancy's partial might." 
The text is from a MS. in the possession of Coll. As Schmidt notes, 
like is "almost =love j" as in A. Y. Z. iii. 2. 431, K. John, ii. 1. 511, 
R. and J. i. 3. 97, etc. 

8. Filed talk. " Studied or polished language " (Malone). See Z. Z. Z. 
p. 153, note on His tongue filed. 

12. Sell. The early eds. have " sale ;" corrected by Malone, from his 
old MS., which also has " thy " for her. The editors have generally 
adopted " thy," but the other reading may be =" praise her person 
highly, as a salesman praises his wares " (W.). Cf. T. and C. iv. 1. 78 : 
" We '11 but commend what we intend to sell ;" Z. Z. Z. iv. 3. 240 : " To 
things of sale a seller's praise belongs ;" Sonn. 21. 14 : " I will not praise 
that purpose not to sell," etc. 

14. Clear ere. The reading of Malone's MS. for the "calme yer" of 
the old eds. 

20. Ban. Curse. See on V. and A. 326. 

28. In thy lady's ear. Malone reads "always in her ear." 

30. Humble-true. First hyphened by St. 

42. Nought. On the rhyme with oft, cf. Lear, p. 193, note on 309-313. 
In Rich. III. iii. 6. 13 and Macb. iv. I. 70, nought rhymes with thought. 

43-46. Think women still, etc. Expect women always, etc. Malone 
reads from the old MS. thus : 

"Think, women love to match with men, 
And not to live so like a saint: 
Here is no heaven ; they holy then 
Begin, when age doth them attaint." 

The early eds. have in 45, 46 : 

"There is no heaven, by holy then, 
When time with age shall them attaint." 

The reading in the text is due to W., and gives a clear meaning with very 
slight changes in the old text. In a passage so corrupt, emendation is 
but guess-work at best ; but this seems to us a happier guess than that 
of the writer of Malone's MS. We do not, however, think it necessary 
to put " seek " for still in 43, as W. does. 

50. Lest that. The early eds. have " Least that." Malone reads " For 
if" from his MS., connecting the line with what follows. 

51. To round me V the ear. To whisper in my ear. Cf. K. John, 
p. 151, note on Rounded. The early eds. have " on th' are " and " on th' 
ere." Malone changed "on" to i\ in 1780; but in 1790 he read "ring 
mine ear." Coll. has "warm my ear" (from his old MS.). W. reads 
" She'll not stick to round me i' th' ear." H. follows Coll. 

54. Bewray 'd. Disclosed, exposed. See on R. of L. 1698. 



THE PHOENIX AND THE TURTLE. 

The title-page of Chester's Loves Martyr, after referring at some length 
to that poem and " the true legend of famous King Arthur," which fol- 



2I2 NOTES. 

lows it, continues thus : " To these are added some new compositions of 
seuerall moderne Writers zvhose names are subscribed to their seuerall 
workes, vpon the first subiect : viz. the Phoenix and Turtle." 

The part of the book containing these "compositions" has a separate 
title-page, as follows : 

HEREAFTER | FOLLOW DIVERSE | Poeticall Essaies on the 
former Sub- | iect ; viz : the Turtle and Phcenix. \ Done by the best and 
chief est of our | moderne writers, with their names sub- | scribed to their 
particular workes : | neuer before extant. | And (now first) consecrated 
by them all generally, | to the loue and merite of the true-noble Knight, \ 
Sir Iohn Salisburie. | Dignum laude virum Musa vetat mori. \ [wood- 
cut of anchor] Anchora Spei. | MDCI. 

Among these poems are some by Marston, Chapman, and Ben Jonson. 

Malone has no doubt of the genuineness of The Phcenix and the Turtle. 
W. says : " There is no other external evidence that these verses are 
Shakespeare's than their appearance with his signature in a collection 
of poems published in London while he was living there in the height of 
his reputation.* The style, however, is at least a happy imitation of his, 
especially in the bold and original use of epithet." Dowden thinks the 
authenticity of the poem " in a high degree doubtful ;" and Furnivall says 
that " it is no doubt spurious." 

Dr. Grosart (see his introduction to the New Shaks. Soc. ed. of Ches- 
ter's Loves Martyr) sees a hidden meaning in this poem and those asso- 
ciated with it in Chester's book. " The Phcenix is a person and a wom- 
an, and the Turtle-dove a person and a male ; and while, as the title-page 
puts it, the poet is ' Allegorically shadowing the truth of Love,' it is a 
genuine story of human love and martyrdom {Lovers Martyr). . . . No one 
at all acquainted with what was the mode of speaking of Queen Elizabeth 
to the very last, will hesitate in recognizing her as the Rosalin and Phcenix 
of Robert Chester, and the 'moderne writers' of this book. ... So with 
the Turtle-dove, epithet and circumstance and the whole bearing of the 
Poems make us think of but one pre-eminent man in the Court of Eliza- 
beth . . . and it will be felt that only of the brilliant but impetuous, the 
greatly-dowered but rash, the illustrious but unhappy Robert Devereux, 
second Earl of Essex, could such splendid things have been thought." 

Dr. Grosart believes The Phcenix and the Turtle to be Shakespeare's, 
and calls it "priceless and unique.' 1 '' He adds: "Perhaps Emerson's 
words on Shakespeare's poem as well represent its sphinx -character 
even to the most capable critics, as any [preface to Parnassus, 1875] : 
' I should like to have the Academy of Letters propose a prize for an 
essay on Shakespeare's poem, Let the bird of loudest lay, and the Threnos 
with which it closes, the aim of the essay being to explain, by a historical 
research into the poetic myths and tendencies of the age in which it was 

* This is a point in favour of their being Shakespeare's which, so far as we are aware, 
other critics have overlooked ; and it seems to us of some importance. It must be borne 
in mind that Chester's book was not a publisher's piratical venture, like The Passionate 
Pilgrim,h\it the reputable work of a gentleman who would hardly have ventured to in- 
sult his patron to whom he dedicates it, by palming off anonymous verses as the contri- 
bution of a well-known poet of the time. 



THE PHCENIX AND THE TURTLE. 2l ^ 

written, the frame and allusions of the poem. I have not seen Chester's 
Love's Martyr and "the Additional Poems " (1601), in which it appeared. 
Perhaps that book will suggest all the explanation this poem requires. 
To unassisted readers, it would appear to be a lament on the death of a 
poet, and of his poetic mistress. But the poem is so quaint, and charm- 
ing in diction, tone, and allusions, and in its perfect metre and harmony, 
that I would gladly have the fullest illustration yet attainable. I consider 
this piece a good example of the rule, that there is a poetry for bards 
proper, as well as a poetry for the world of readers. This poem, if pub- 
lished for the first time, and without a known author's name, would find 
no general reception. Only the poets would save it.' " 

Mr. Hallivvell-Phillipps, in his recent Outlines of the Life of Shakespeare 
(2d ed. 1882) says : "It was towards the close of the present year, 1600, 
or at some time in the following one, that Shakespeare for the first and 
only time, came forward in the avowed character of a philosophical writ- 
er." After giving an account of Chester's book, he adds: "The contri- 
bution of the great dramatist is a remarkable poem in which he makes 
a notice of the obsequies of the phoenix and turtle-dove subservient to 
the delineation of spiritual union. It is generally thought that Chester 
himself intended a personal allegory, but, if that be the case, there is noth- 
ing to indicate that Shakespeare participated in the design, nor even that 
he had endured the punishment of reading Love's Martyr.'" 

1. The bird of lotidest lay. As Dr. Grosart remarks, this is not the 
Phoenix, as has generally been assumed, as " it were absurd to imagine it 
could be called on to 'sing' its own death," and besides it is now r here 
represented as gifted with song. 

2. The sole Arabian tree. Malone cites Temp. iii. 3. 22 : 

"Now I will believe 
That there are unicorns ; that in Arabia 
There is one tree, the phcenix' throne ; one phcenix 
At this hour reigning there." 

He adds : "This singular coincidence likewise serves to authenticate the 
present poem." The tree is probably the palm, the Greek name of which 
is the same as that of the phcenix ((poivi%). 

3. Trumpet. Trumpeter. See Ham. p. 176, or W. T. p. 168. 

4. To. For its use with obey, cf. T. and C. p. 187. 

Dr. Grosart, who takes the bird to be the nightingale, says : " I have 
myself often watched the lifting and tremulous motion of the singing 
nightingale's wings, and chaste was the exquisitely chosen word to de- 
scribe the nightingale, in reminiscence of the classical story." 

5. Shrieking harbinger. The screech-owl (Steevens). Cf. M. N. D. 

' ' 3 J " " Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud, 

Puts the wretch that lies in woe 
In remembrance of a shroud." 

The fever's end is of course death. 

14. That defnnctive music can. " That understands funereal music " 
(Malone). For this ;vw=know, see Wb. Cf. Chaucer, C. T 5638 (ed. 

J ' ' "I wot wel Abraham was an holy man, 

And Jacob eke, as fer as ever I can," etc. 



2I4 NOTES. 

1 6. His. Its. 

17. Treble-dated. Living thrice as long as man. Steevens quotes Lu- 
cretius, v. 1053 : 

"Cornicum ut secla vetusta. 
Ter tres aetates humanas garrula vincit 
'Cornix." 

18. That thy sable gender mak'st, etc. "Thou crow that makest 
[change in] thy sable gender with the mere exhalation and inhalation 
of thy breath " (E. W. Gosse). It was a popular belief that the crow 
could change its sex at will. 

25. As. That. Cf. R. of L. 1372 and 1420. 

32. But in them it were a wonder. " So extraordinary a phenomenon 
as hearts remote, yet not asunder, etc., would have excited admiration, 
had it been found anywhere else except in these two birds. In them it 
was not wonderful " (Malone). 

34. Saw his right, etc. " It is merely a variant mode of expressing 
seeing love-babies (or one's self imaged) in the other's eyes. This gives 
the true sense to mine in 35 " (Grosart). 

37. Property. Property in self, individuality. 

43. To themselves. Grosart suggests that these words should be joined 
to what precedes. 

44. Simple were so well compoimded. That is, were so well blended 
into one. 

45. That. So that. Cf. V. and A. 242. 

49. Threne. Threnody, funeral song. It is the Anglicized threnos 
(SpijvoQ), with which the following stanzas are headed. Malone quotes 
Kendal's Poems, 1577 : 

" Of verses, threnes, and epitaphs, 
Full fraught with tears of teene." 

A book entitled David's Threanes was published in 1620, and reprinted 
two years later as David's Tears. 




INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 



accorded (=agreed), 198. 

acture, 201. 

addressed (=ready), 196. 

adjunct, 184. 

adulterate, 196. 

advance (=raise), 197. 

advised, be, 176. 

advisedly, 185, 195, 197. 

afeard, 192. 

affection (=lust), 187. 

alarms, 174. 

all to naught, 180. 

allow (=approve), 198. 

all-too-timeless, 183. 

aloes, 202. 

amaze (=bewilder), 177. 

anatomized, 195. 

and for, 192. 

angry-chafing, 177. 

annexions, 201. 

annoy (noun), 175, 192. 

antics, 187. 

appaid, 191. 

applying wet to wet, 199. 

Arabian tree, 213. 

Ardea (accent), 182. 

arrive (transitive), 190. 

as (=that), 194, 214. 

askance (verb), 189. 

aspect (accent), 183. 

assays (=attempts), 197, 200. 

astonished ( = astounded ), 

197. 
at a bay, 179. 
at gaze, 193. 

attired in discontent, 196. 
a-twain, 198. 
authorized (accent), 200. 
a-work, 195. 
ay me ! 1 79. 

balk (=neglect), 189. 
bankrupt (spelling!, 175, 1S4. 
banning (=cursing), 174, 195, 

211. 
bare (noun), 200. 
barns (verb), 191. 
bateless, 183. 



bate-breeding, 177. 
battle (=battalion), 177. 
be remembered, 189. 
beaded, 199. 
beguiled (active), 196. 
beldam, 191. 
bells (of falcon), 187. 
beseeched, 201. 
beseems, 185. 
bewrayed, 197, 211. 
bid a base, 173. 
bird of loudest lay, 213. 
birth-hour's blot, 188. 
black stage, 190. 
blasts (intransitive), 183. 
blazoned, 201. 
blood (=passion), 200. 
blue windows, 175. 
blunt (=rude), 195. 
blunt (=savage), 179. 
bollen, 194. 

bond (=ownership), 184. 
borrowed motion, 203. 
brave (=beautiful), 209. 
braving compare, 183. 
brokers (=panders), 201. 
bulk (= chest), 187. 
burden-wise, 192. 

cabinet (=nest), 179- 
can (=know), 213. 
canker (=worm), 177. 
careless hand of pride, 199. 
carriage (figurative), 199. 
carry-tale, 177. 
case (=dress), 200. 
cautels, 203. 
chafe, 174. 

chaps (spelling), 195. 
charactered (accent), 190. 
charge the watch, 210. 
cheer (=face), 185. 
cherish springs, 191. 
cherubin, 203. 
churlish (boar), 176. 
cipher (=decipher), 190. 
city (figurative), 201. 
civil (=decorous), 203. 



clepes, 180. 

clip (^embrace), 176. 

closure, 178. 

cloud-kissing Ilion, 194. 

cloudy, 192. 

coasteth, 179. 

coat, 202. 

cockatrice' dead-killing eve, 

188. 
cold fault, 177. 
colour (play upon), 187. 
combustious, 182- 
comfortable, 184. 
compact of, 172. 
compare (noun), 183. 
compassed (=curved), 173. 
complain on, 172, 176. 
complained (transitive), 198. 
conceit (=conception), 189, 

x 94-. 
conceit ( = understanding ), 

209. 
conceited ( = fanciful ), 194, 

198. 
conclusion ( = experiment ), 

193' 
conduct (=conductor), 186. 
confounds (=ruins), 184, 193, 

195- 
congest, 202. 
conjures (accent), 188. 
contemn me this, 173. 
contrives, 202. 
controlled ( = restrained), 

187, 189. 
convert (intransitive), 188, 

189. 
convert (rhyme), 1S8. 
convertite, 190. 
cope him, 179. 
copesmate, 191. 
coucheth (transitive), 187. 
counterfeit (=likeness), 194. 
cranks (=turns), 177. 
credent, 202. 
crest-wounding, 190. 
cries some, 199. 
cuckoos, 191. 



2 i6 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



curious (=careful), 178, 199. 
curled hair, 191. 
curst, 179. 
Cytherea, 209. 

daffed, 203, 210. 

decease (rhyme), 180. 

deep regard, 194. 

defame (noun), 190. 

defeature, 178. 

defunctive, 213. 

deprive (=take away), 193, 

197. 
descant (=comment), 210. 
descant (=sing), 192. 
diapason, 192. 
digression (^transgression), 

.185. 
dismount (figurative), 202. 
dispense with, 192, 194, 197. 
dispersed (accent), 197. 
disports (noun), 182. 
disputation (metre), 185. 
distract (accent), 201. 
done (=ruined), 183, 198. 
doves (of Venus), 172, 182, 

209. 
dumps, 192. 

ear (=plough), 170. 
ecstasy (^excitement), 179, 

200. 
effects, 196. 
element (=sky), 196. 
embracements, 173. 
empty eagle, 171. 
engine of her thoughts, 174. 
enpatron, 201. 
ensue (transitive), 187. 
envious (=malicious), 178. 
exclaims on, 180, 190. 
expired (accent), 183. 
extincture, 203. 
extreme (accent), 185. 
eyne, 177, 189, 193. 

fact (=deed), 186. 
fair (=beauty), 181. 
fair fall, 175. 
falcon's bells, 187. 
fall (=let fall), 196. 
fancy (=love), 185, 210. 
fancy (=lover), 200, 201. 
fastly, 200. 

fault (in hunting), 177. 
fear (=frighten), 181. 
fear (=object of fear), 186. 
fearful (=full of fear), 177. 
feast-finding, 190. 
feat (adverb), 199. 
fee-simple, my own, 200. 
fence (—guard), 183. 
fickle, 198. 



field (play upon), 183. 

fiery-pointed, 186. 

figured, 209. 

filed talk, 211. 

fine (=bringtoan end), 191. 

fire (dissyllable), 174. 

flaws (=gusts), 175. 

fluxive, 199. 

foil (noun), 200. 

folly (= wickedness), 191. 

fond (=foolish), 180, 185, 192. 

fondling (=darling), 173. 

for (^because), 192. 

for why, 193, 209. 

force not (=regard not), 192- 

forced to content, 171. 

forestall (=prevent), 190. 

forsworn, 178. 

frets (noun), 192. 

from (=away from), 193. 

fruitless (=barren), 178. 

fry (=small fry), 176. 

fulfilled (=filled full), 193. 

gage (=risk), 184. 

gentry (=gentle birth), 188. 

gins (=begins), 171. 

gives her sorrow fire, 196. 

glisters, 173. 

go about (=attempt), 174. 

God wot, 194. 

government, 194. 

grained (bat), 200. 

grave (=bury?), 189. 

grave (=engrave), 174. 

graff, 192. 

grey, 172. 

gripe (=griffin), 188. 

grisly, 191. 

had gave, 176. 

hard-favoured, 172, 196. 

harmless show, 195. 

hearsed, 189. 

heart's attorney, 174. 

heartless, 187. 

heave her napkin, 198. 

helpless, 176, 192. 

honey (adjective), 171. 

honour (=lordship), 170. 

hild (=held), 193. 

his (=its), 174, 188, 195, 214. 

his (=of him), 180. 

ill-nurtured, 172. 
imaginary, 194. 
imagination (metre), 177. 
imperious (=imperial), 180. 
imposthumes, 178. 
impleached, 201. 
in ( = on), 172. 

in clay (=in the grave), 189. 
in hand with, 180. 



in post, 182. 

in sadness (=in earnest), 178. 

incorporate, 176. 

insinuate with, 180. 

instance (=evidence), 195. 

insult (=exult;, J76. 

insulter, 176. 

intend (=pretend), 184. 

intendments, 173. 

interprets, 194. 

intituled, 183. 

intrude (=invade), 191. 

inventions, 194. 

invised, 201. 

invisible, 175. 

jade, 190. 

ken (=sight), 192. 
key-cold, 197. 
kill, kill! 177. 
kind (=natural), 194. 

laid (=lay), 198. 

land (noun), 189. 

late (=lately), 197, 202. 

laund, 178. 

laundering, 198. 

leaps (rhyme), 173. 

leave (=license), 176. 

lectures (=lessons), 189. 

leisures, 201. 

let (=forbear), 183. 

let (=hinder), 186. 

let (=hindrance), 189. 

levelled (=aimed), 199, 202, 

203. 
like (=as?), 187. 
limed, 183. 
lists of love, 176. 
liver (seat of passion), 183. 
lode-star, 185. 
lover (feminine), 198. 
love's golden arrow, 180. 
lust (=pleasure), 194. 
lust-breathed, 182. 
luxury (=lust), 203. 

make a saw, 197. 

manage (noun), 200. 

manage (of horses), 176. 

mane (plural), 173. 

map (=picture), 186. 

margents, 184. 

marriage (trisyllable^, 185. 

mated (=bewildered), 180. 

maund, 199. 

mean (=means), 192. 

measure (=dance), 182. 

mermaid (=siren>, 174-, 178. 

miss (=misbehaviour), 171. 

mistrustful, 178. 

moe, 195, 196, 199, 200. 



INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 217 



moiety, 182. 

moralize, 184. 

more (=greater), 171. 

mortal ( = death - dealing ), 

176. 
mot (=motto), 190. 
musing (=wondering), 179. 
musits, 177. 

naked (play upon), 185. 

nameless, 187. 

napkin ( = handkerchief ), 

198. 
Narcissus, 172, 185. 
needle (monosyllable), 186. 
nill, 210. 

nimble notes, 192. 
note (—-notoriety), 202. 
note (=stigma), 185. 
nought (rhyme), 211. 
nought to do, 192. 
nuzzling, 181. 

obdurate (accent), 173, 187. 
obey to, 213. 
o'er-worn, 172. 
o'erstraw'd, 182- 
of force, 201. 
on (omitted), 187. 
on ringing, 195. 
only (transposed^, 187. 
orchard (=garden), 200. 
Orpheus, 188. 
orts, 192. 

outwards (noun), 200. 
overseen (=bewitched), 193. 
overseer (of will), 193. 
owe (=own), 174, 1S3, 197, 
200. 

packed (=sent packing), 210. 
painted cloth, 185. 
pale (=enclosure), 173. 
pale (^paleness), 176. 
paling the place, etc, 202. 
palmer, 190, 
Paphos, 182. 
parling, 184. 
passenger, 172. 
passions (=grieves), 181. 
peeled (spelling), 193. 
peers (verb), 187. 
pelleted, 199. 
pelt (verb), 194. 
pensived, 201. 
perplexed ( = confounded ), 

190. 
Philomel, 192, 210. 
phoenix (adjective), 200. 
phraseless, 201. 
pine (=starve\ 176. 
pioneer (spelling), 194. 
pith (=vigour), 171. 



plaining, 188. 

plaits (noun), 183. 

plausibly, 198. 

pleasance, 209. 

pleasing (passive), 192. 

point (=appoint), 191. 

posied, 199. 

power (plural), 186. 

preached pure maid, 203. 

precedent, 193. 

prefer and undertake, 199. 

present (=instant), 193. 

pretended (=intended), 188. 

pretty, 193. _ 

prick ( = dial-point), 190. 

prime (=spring), 186. 

prone (=headlong), 189. 

proof (=armour), 177. 

proof (=experience), 200. 

property, 214. 

proportioned, 190. 

prove (^experience), 176. 

prove (=try), 171. 

purified, 188. 

purled, 194. 

qualified, 187. 

quality (of gems\ 201. 

questioned (=talked), 184. 

quittal, 185. 

quote (—note), 190. 

rank (adjective), 171. 
read lectures, 189. 
reaves, 178. 
receipt, 189. 
remorse (=pity), 173. 
rents (= rends), 199. 
repeal (=recall), 189. 
repine (noun), 175. 
reprove (=disprove\ 178. 
requiring (=asking), 182. 
resolution (metre), 186. 
respect (=prudence), 185. 
respects (= considerations), 

180. 
retire (noun), 184. 
retire (transitive), 186- 
retiring (^returning), 191. 
re-worded, 198. 
rigol, 197. 
rose-cheeked, 170. 
round (=whisper), 2ii- 
ruffle (=bustle), 199. 
ruinate, 191. 
ruth (=pity), 209. 

, sad (=serious), 185. 

saw (=maxim), 185. 

sawn (=sown ?), 200. 

scape (noun), 190. 

seared, 198. 
I seasoned (figurative), 199. 



seated from the way, 193. 

securely, 183. 

seeks to, 185. 

seld, 210. 

senseless, 190. 

sensible (=sensitive), 175. 

sepulchred (accent), 190. 

set a-work, 195. 

shame ( intransitive ), 192, 

J 93- 
sheaved, 199. 
shifting (=deceitful), 191. 
shift (=trickery), 191. 
shine (noun), 175. 
shoot (noun), 188. 
short (verb), 210. 
shrewd (=evil), 175. 
silly (=innocent),i8r, 184. 
simple (=artless), 178. 
simple (noun), 188. 
Sinon, 195. 
sistering, 198. 
sith, 178, 182. 
size, 199. 
slanderous, 192. 
sleided, 199. 
slips (play upon), 175. 
smoothing(=flattering), 191. 
sneaped, 186. 
sod (=sodden), 196. 
sometime, 192, 199. 
sort (=adapt), 193. 
sort (=select), 191. 
sounds (waters), 194. 
spend their mouths, 177. 
spirit (monosyllable), 172, 

198, 202. 
spleen (=heat), 209. 
spleens, 180. 

spotted (=polluted), 190. 
spright, 172, 184, 197. 
spring (=bud), 177, 191. 
stain to all nymphs, 171. 
stalled, 210. 
steep-up, 209. 
stelled, 195. 
stillitory, 175. 
still-pining, 191. 
still-slaughtered, 185. 
sting (^stimulus), 202. 
stole (=robe), 293. 
stops(ofmusicalinstrument), 

192. 
stories (verb), 180, 184. 
strand (spelling), 195. 
strange kinds, 193. 
strangeness, 175. 
struck (spelling), 175. 
strucken, 185. 
suffered, 174. 

suggested (=tempted), 183. 
supplicant, 202. 
I supposed, 186. 



2i8 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 



supreme (accent), 190. 
surcease, 197. 
suspect (noun), 180. 
sweating palm, 171. 
swooning (spelling), 203. 
swounds, 195. 

take truce, 171. 

taking (noun), 187. 

tarriance, 209. 

tender (=favour), 188. 

teen (=sorrow), 178, 201. 

temperance (=chastity), 191. 

tempering, 176. 

termless, 200. 

than (=then), 195. 

thorough (=through), 198. 

threaden, 199. 

threne, 214. 

timely (=early), 209. 

tired (=attired), 172. 

tires ( = feeds ravenously), 

171. 
Titan (=sun), 172. 
that (=so that), 173, 176,179, 

183, 185, 187,194, i95, *97, 

200,314. 
to (=in addition to), 196. 
too late (=too lately), 197. 
too too, 184. 

told (=counted), 173, 175. 
top of rage, 199. 



toward (=forward), 182. 
towering (in falconry), 187. 
treatise (=talk), 178. 
treble-dated, 214. 
trenched, 181. 
triumphing (accent), 194. 
true men, 178. 
trumpet (=trumpeter), 213. 

unadvised, 195. 
unapproved, 199. 
uncouple, 177. 
uncouth (= strange), ig6r 
undertake ( = guarantee ), 

202. 
unexperient, 203. 
unhappy ( — mischievous ), 

196. 
unkind (=childless), 173. 
unlived, 197. 

unrecalling (passive), 192. 
unseasonable, 188. 
unsounded, 198. 
urchin-snouted, 181. 

vaded, 209. 

vails (=lowers), 173, 180. 

vastly, 197. 

venge, 197. 

villain (=servant), 194. 

ward (=bolt), 186. 



was my own fee-simple, 

200. 
Wat (=hare), 178. 
watch of woes, 191. 
water-galls, 196. 
weed (^garment), 185. 
whenas, 180, 210. 
who (=which), 173, 179, i8r, 

186, 192- 

where (=whereas), 190. 
whereas (=where), 209. 
whether ( monosyllable ), 

.173- 
wink (=shut the eyes), 172, 

187, 188. 
wipe (noun), 188. 
wistly, 174, 194, 209. 
withhold (=detain), 176. 
within his danger, 177. 
wits (rhyme), 179. 
wood (=mad), 178. 
woodman (=hunter), 188. 
wot, 194. 

worm (=serpent), 180. 

wrack, 175. 

wrapped ( = overwhelmed ), 

187. 
wreaked (=revenged), 180. 
wretch (as a term of pity), 

178. 
writ on death, 175. 
wrong the wronger, 191. 




SHAKESPEARE. 



WITH NOTES BY WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 



The Merchant of Venice. 

The Tempest. 

Julius Caesar. 

Hamlet. 

As Tou Like It. 

Henry the Fifth. 

Macbeth. 

Henry the Eighth. 

Midsummer-Night's Dream 

Richard the Second. 

Richard the Third. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

Romeo and Juliet. 

Othello. 

Twelfth Night. 

The Winter's Tale. 

King John. 

Henry IV. Part I. 

Henry IV. Part II. 



King Lear. 

Taming of the Shrew. 

All >s Well That Ends Well, 

Coriolanus. 

Comedy of Errors. 

Cymbeline. 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 

Measure for Measure. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

Love's Labour >s Lost. 

Timon of Athens. 

Henry VI. Part I. 

Henry VI. Part II. 

Henry VI. Part III. 

Troilus and Cressida. 

Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 

The Two Noble Kinsmen. 

Poems. 

Sonnets. 



Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 56 cts. per Vol. ; Paper, 40 cts. per Vol. 

In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational pur- 
poses. The chief requisites are a pure text (expurgated, if necessary), 
and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 

Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
ceded by an Introduction containing the "History of the Play," the 
"Sources of the Plot," and "Critical Comments on the Play." 



From Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the "New Vario- 
rum Shakespeare.'' 1 
No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed with the 
conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which they are 
edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are written Mr. 
Rolfe never loses sight of, but like " a well-experienced archer hits the 
mark his eve doth level at." 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From F. J. FURNIVALL, Director of the New Shakspere Society, London. 

The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelped, 
catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 

From Prof. Edward Dowden, LL.D., of J ht- University of Dublin, 
Author of "Shakspere : His Mind and Art.''' 
I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc., you make 
a book " pleasant to the eyes " (as well as " to be desired to make one 
wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 

From Edwin A. Abbott, M. A., Author of "Shakespearian Grammar." 
I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 

From Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
Literature, Cornell University, Ithaca, A r . Y. 
In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard University. 

I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every 
respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the 
opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be 
thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. 
You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 

Under date of July 25, 1879, Prof. Child adds : Mr. Rolfe's editions 
of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether 
for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They 
show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in 
scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
have expressed of the excellence of these books. 

From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. 

I regard your own work as of the highest merit, while you have turned 
the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- 
vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, 
or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
pily begun. 

From the Examiner and Chronicle, N. Y. 
We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens 
of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other 
merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in 
order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stops 
there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
tionately grateful for it. 



Rolfe's Shakespeare. 



From the N. Y. Times. 

This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
the poet's moods and purposes. 

From the Pacific School Journal, San Francisco. 
This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- 
poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained 
by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books. 
. . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love 
for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in 
cultivating a pure and refined taste. 

From the Christian Union, N. Y. 
Mr. W. J. Rolfe's capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the 
necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. 

From the Academy, London. 
Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones 
in looking on the plays as something more than word-puzzles. They give 
the student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . 
Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words 
and Phrases explained." 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Any of the above works will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the 
United States, on receipt of the price. 



OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 

SELECT POEMS OF OLIVER GOLDSMITH. Edited, 
with Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
trated. i6mo, Paper, 40 cents ; Cloth, 56 cents. (Uni- 
form with jRolfe's Shakespeare.) 



The carefully arranged editions of " The Merchant of Venice " and 
other of Shakespeare's plays prepared by Mr. William J. Rolfe for the 
use of students will be remembered with pleasure by many readers, and 
they will welcome another volume of a similar character from the same 
source, in the form of the " Select Poems of Oliver Goldsmith," edited 
with notes fuller than those of any other known edition, many of them 
original with the editor. — Boston Transcript. 

Mr. Rolfe is doing very useful work in the preparation of compact 
hand-books for study in English literature. His own personal culture, 
and his long experience as a teacher, give him good knowledge of what 
is wanted in this way. — The Congregationalist, Boston. 

Mr. Rolfe has prefixed to the Poems selections illustrative of Gold- 
smith's character as a man and grade as a poet, from sketches by Ma- 
caulay, Thackeray, George Colman, Thomas Campbell, John Forster, 
and Washington Irving. He has also appended, at the end of the 
volume, a body of scholarly notes explaining and illustrating the poems, 
and dealing with the times in which they were written, as well as the 
incidents and circumstances attending their composition. — Christian 
Intelligencer, N. Y. 

The notes are just and discriminating in tone, and supply all that is 
necessary either for understanding the thought of the several poems, or 
for a critical study of the language. The use of such books in the school- 
room cannot but contribute largely toward putting the study of English 
literature upon a sound basis; and many an adult reader would find in 
the present volume an excellent opportunity for becoming critically ac- 
quainted with one of the greatest of last century's poets. — Appleton's 
Journal, N. Y. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt op 
the price. 



THOMAS GRAY. 

SELECT POEMS OF THOMAS GRAY. Edited, with 
Notes, by William J. Rolfe, A.M., formerly Head 
Master of the High School, Cambridge, Mass. Illus- 
trated. Square i6mo, Paper, 40 cents ; Cloth, 56 cents. 
{Uniform with Rolfe 1 s Shakespeare.) 



Mr. Rolfe has done his work in a manner that comes as near to per- 
fection as man can approach. He knows his subject so well that he is 
competent to instruct all in it ; and readers will find an immense amount 
of knowledge in his elegant volume, all set forth in the most admirable 
order, and breathing the most liberal and enlightened spirit, he being a 
warm appreciator ot the divinity of genius. — Boston Traveller. 

The great merit of these books lies in their carefully-edited text, and in 
the fulness of their explanatory notes. Mr. Rolfe is not satisfied with 
simply expounding, but he explores the entire field of English literature, 
and therefrom gathers a multitude of illustrations that are interesting in 
themselves and valuable as a commentary on the text. He not only in- 
structs, but stimulates his readers to fresh exertion ; and it is this stimu- 
lation that makes his labors so productive in the school-room. — Saturday 
Evening Gazette, Boston. 

Mr. William J. Rolfe, to whom English literature is largely indebted 
for annotated and richly-illustrated editions of several of Shakespeare's 
Plays, has treated the " Select Poems of Thomas Gray" in the same way 
— just as he had previously dealt with the best of Goldsmith's poems. — 
The Press, Phila. 

Mr. Rolfe's edition of Thomas Gray's select poems is marked by the 
same discriminating taste as his other classics. — Springfield Reptiblican. 

Mr. Rolfe's rare abilities as a teacher and his fine scholarly tastes ena- 
ble him to prepare a classic like this in the best manner for school use. 
There could be no better exercise for the advanced classes in our schools 
than the critical study of our best authors, and the volumes that Mr. Rolfe 
has prepared will hasten the time when the study of mere form will give 
place to the study of the spirit of our literature. — Louisville Courier- 
Journal. 

An elegant and scholarly little volume. — Christian Intelligencer, N. Y. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

B^ 3 * Sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt ofths 
price and one sixth additional for postage. 



